Like Magic
by Madcap Thoughts
Summary: (Modern AU Fairy tale-ish) In the magnificent city of Paris, magic can be found at every corner, For Antoine Enjolras and Eponine Thenardier, magic found them. They met at the party and danced. When the clock struck midnight, their lives would never be the same again. One can say it's like magic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Credit to my friend, whom I cannot name, for the gist of the whole plot. I don't own Les Miserables.**

**Summary: In the magnificent city of Paris, magic can be found in every corner if one seeks for it. For Antoine Enjolras and Eponine Thenardier, magic found them. **_(This is not your wizard-spell-horcruxes-laviosAr type of magic. It's the love-is-the-answer-hope-is-the-dawn-we-are-infinit e kind of magic)_ **After one night in a party, their destinies are intertwined.**

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Chapter 1

Paris, as some may say, is the city of wonder and dreams. The historical city, shaped like a saucer with the larger buildings enclosing the smaller ones, captures the hearts and minds of every traveler and dreamer all over the world and perhaps even beyond. Wonderers swear they can feel beauty enter and intoxicate their minds and hearts as they waltz across the streets of art and history. It is also said that magic wafts in the daylight and dances on the Seine River with the moon. Twirling around and around with a mischievous smile, love pirouettes and takes trouble as its dance partner. Together, they perform wonderfully as they seek for an audience in the night.

* * *

Eponine Thenardier never believed in any form of magic other than the magic of irony. It is ironic that she spent her childhood in lovely clothing and laughter but spends her adolescence searching for an escape from poverty and negativity. It is ironic that the picture of her once smiling family now shatters like glass before her eyes. It was ironic that her dreams and hopes were crushed when their family moved into the city of Paris. In her defense, she had every right to not believe in any sort of magic.

"Girl! Where are you?" a gruff voice calls for her sharply.

Eponine rushes to her father. "What is it?"

Thenardier scowls at his daughter and grabs a thick mass of her grime-coated brown hair and growls into her ear. "Show some respect, girl, or you'll regret it." His voice is rough like sandpaper but poisonous like venom. A con man among the scum of Paris, the poor population of the city fears and avoids him and his gang of misfits. Thenardier never shows any form of happiness; he would leer when he comes back successful with filled pockets but there was never any real joy in his thin face. "I have an errand for you, girl." He shoves her away from his person harshly. "There is a party tonight among the elite of Paris. Go there and bring back whatever you can pickpocket. Maybe you can even be useful and take a man to bed for a price. Don't come back until you can't stuff your pockets no more."

"Papa," Eponine keeps her face stoic and apathetic. It would be a crime to say Eponine was ugly or anything like that. Even if she thought of herself that way, for a girl of the streets, she did a good job of looking more decent than most. "I don't have clothes for a high class party nor do I look high class. How will I-"

Her father interrupts her. "It's been taken care of. Your mama will fix you up." In a coarse, impatient voice, he hollers for Madame Thenardier. The woman in question comes as quickly as she could. A permanent grimace is etched upon her once fine features. Disappointment and bitterness fuels the anger in her eyes but Eponine swears she could see a faint trace of her mother's hopeless romantic nature in those eyes that resembles to her own.

"Come on now, Eponine," Madame Thenardier leads her away. "Your papa is a busy man. We don't want to disturb him." All the world's sadness fills her hoarse voice.

Silently, Eponine follows.

* * *

The poor are not the only ones that do not believe in magic. Other times, the rich are too engrossed in their own troubles and worries that they simply have no time for such "childish nonsense" or "crazy talk". Antoine Enjolras is a serious man with a serious mind and a serious goal. Even as a little boy, he had already planned out his entire future for himself. He would grow up, study very well, become a lawyer and wipe out poverty and criminality.

Enjolras' father had rather different plans in mind. Both father and son are boulders that cannot be moved. Once they had their mind set on an idea, they dare not stray from achieving that goal. Often times, they would collide and war would break lose in the Enjolras estate in which everyone must pick a side or be trampled over. One would wonder how Madame Enjolras puts up with these two hardheaded men who competitively raise their chin higher at one another. "A battle of arrogance and will, these two add ten years to my age and it is definitely not healthy for my skin." Madame Enjolras would say tiresomely.

"You must go to that party tonight, Antoine!" Monsieur Enjolras' voice booms in the spacious drawing room. Madame Enjolras sits in one of the velvet sofas as her eyes worriedly follows the arguing pair. The butler, James, stands stiffly next to a cringing, young maid, Aimee, in the corner as they wait for further instructions. With silent eyes, they watch the exchange of the two storm clouds.

"I will not go because I have an exam to study for, father." The word "father" is spoken through gritted teeth.

Monsieur Enjolras' forehead creases. The man is dignified and firm with his shoulders squared and his back straight. Discipline has blessed Monsieur Enjolras with an intimidating aura that could make a grown man fall on his knees and beg for repentance. No man, woman or child with an at least average intelligence dares defy this lion-like businessman; no one except his own flesh and blood, Antoine Enjolras.

Madame Enjolras could foresee the possible outcome of this little quarrel. Immediately, she interferes smoothly. After all, it was part of her job to keep her boys in line. Monsieur Enjolras was about to explode in a firecracker-like manner when the Madame said in a sweet voice, "Sweetheart, do please fetch me a cup of tea."

Monsieur Enjolras looks pointedly at her. "Why not make James or Aimee do that for you?"

Apparently, she overestimated how quickly her husband can catch on. She casts him a knowing look and responds, "Only you know how I like my Jasmine tea."

"I don't see why-"

Her lovely voice is laced with a threatening string. "Please, sweetheart? For me?" She is well aware of the fact that he cannot say no to her when she gives him a pleading look or used that phrase _"For me?"_ With an exasperated sigh, the Monsieur left the room to make tea.

"Thank you, mother." Antoine lets out a breath of his own.

"Don't thank me yet. I am for you going to the party tonight."

Antoine Enjolras sits on the armchair near his mother. "Mother, I have work to do. I have an exam to study for. I don't have time to play games and fool around!"

"Nonsense," she dismisses his excuses. "Since when did young men not have any time to fool around? Don't boys normally just fool around? Isn't that the only thing they ever do?"

"Mother-"

"Darling," her tone softens. Madame Enjolras is known to be very charismatic and convincing. Beauty still lingers in her kind face even as the years come by; a tender smile always touches her plump lips in addition to her velvety voice. Compassion flows in her veins and thus, compels her to sympathize with the plight of the poor. Angelic beauty takes a human form in this woman. "Please listen to your father. He just wants what is best for his only son."

Antoine Enjolras runs his hand through his thick mass of blond hair, an action he rarely does unless he is pressured or hesitant which he almost never is.

Madame Enjolras could see his steel will crack so she presses on. "You can retire after midnight. You have my word. Once the clock strikes midnight, you are free to go where you chose."

"You have a deal," the fire rekindles in his eyes. It is the best deal he could get out of the discussion; better than any deal his father would offer.

It is moving to see fire in the eyes of a young man. The youth these days have no thoughts of liberty or a better government; they prefer to waste away on alcohol or party until the skies turn bright. This is how Enjolras views his peers judging how his friends and classmates normally act. Possessed by the desire of a brighter France, he swore off all distractions a long time ago. Nothing shall ever get in between him and his aspiration. Yes, the man made from marble only believes in the magic of blood, sweat and tears.

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**A/N: I didn't go deep into physical description... Not yet. I like being dramatic. :3 Reviews are appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I own not Les Miserables. ASDFGHJKL. Just because it's Eponine/Enjolras, doesn't mean it would all be about them. Yes, it's mainly about them but not ALL them. Just saying. Reviews and story follows appreciated, very very much. :)**

**I was SO excited to post this but don't expect every chapter would be as fast. I like taking my time. -_-**

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Chapter 2

Wistful longing can make people boil with blind jealousy; they become destructive and hysterical at worse cases. Fortunately, not all souls harden with grief. One who is pure at heart and mind humbles under the pressure of injustice or malice.

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"You're hurting me." Eponine complains as her mother scrubs her tanned skin. Currently, she sits on a slightly rusty bathtub in a compacted bathroom. The bubbles have already dissolved and dirt mixes in with the bath water.

"Stop complaining," Madame Thenardier digs the scrub deeper into her daughter's skin because the dirt stubbornly sticks to her like moss. "Be glad that you're actually going to a party and being all dolled up for it." Eponine must have misheard for she identifies a hint of wistful jealousy in Madame Thenardier's voice.

Eponine tries to stay silent as her skin grows red and stings; only an occasional yelp escapes her clenched teeth. Finally, her prayers are answered and her mother's tight grip on her arm vanishes but a bucket of freezing water is poured over her lowered head. This causes her to bite down on her tongue. "Cosette? Where are you, girl?" Madame Thenardier yells for the servant of the house.

Light on her feet, Cosette knocks on the wooden door and stands by the doorframe in a matter of moments. "Y-Yes, Madame?"

"Here, prepare her for the party."

Later on, Eponine sits on a wooden chair in front of her mother's cracked full-length mirror; a worn-out bath robe hangs loosely on her thin frame. The Thenardiers used to run a small inn before moving to the city of Paris but now; they rely on stolen goods and blood money from Thenardier and his gang. Eponine can remember the day they left as if it were only yesterday; she recalls thinking that nothing in her life will ever be the same and truth be spoken, nothing was ever the same. Eponine glares at the woman in the mirror. _Why regret what cannot be?_

Cosette uncomfortably hovers behind the young Thenardier. Not really knowing what else to do, she picks up a brush from a nearby table and gently untangles the woman's hair. She and Eponine were friends once in a time long before where there were such things as magic and miracles. One would contemplate why time scurries off so fast like a mouse sprints in the moonlight.

"You look lovely." A soft smile graces Cosette's cracked lips. She backs away slowly to admire her work on Eponine. Luckily for Cosette, Madame Thenardier's hobby is collecting a fine amount of cosmetics and beauty products when they had a bit of money to spare. Luckily for Eponine, Cosette would sneak to watch the beauty channel on the television set and practice on herself when the Thenardiers were out.

* * *

Good things happen to good people. It may take time and patience but it is part of the delicate balance of the universe.

Jean Valjean is a secretive man who went under the name, Fauchelevent. Many watch him deliver snacks to the children of the street or run off to assist one in need as he did every day since he arrived in these humble parts. A smile always graces his lips and joy would reach his eyes that are filled with wisdom and benevolence. Monsieur Fauchelevent seldom made casual conversation and when they would question him about his personal matters, he would quickly change the subject or excuse himself to run errands. No one could say anything negative about Monsieur Fauchelevent except that he seems rather distant and lonesome.

"Good afternoon, Monsieur," a voice as lovely and smooth like a violin sings.

Fauchelevent turns to the young woman seated on the park bench. "Good afternoon, Cosette. Aren't you needed in the Thenardier household?"

Blonde hair falls before Cosette's lovely face as she shakes her head. "I've already helped Mademoiselle Eponine prepare and I've already cooked dinner. They won't need me in their way."

Cosette is truly an angel in every way possible. Left to the Thenariders at an early age without a mother or father, the Thenardiers have been using her as their house servant for as long as she could remember, but not a word of condemnation ever left her pink lips. Throughout the years, her life seems to be heading down a hopeless road of misery and labor yet that does not extinguish an amiable light in those sapphire eyes or distorts her gentle smile.

Cosette tucks her blonde hair behind her ear, moreover; her fingers could feel her braid coming lose. She smoothes down her plain brown dress and scoots to the side, "Please sit, Monsieur Fauchelevent."

Fauchelevent occupies the space next to her. This was their routine in most days; she would come to the nearby park when she finished her chores, daydream about another life, he would pass by to see her all alone and they would start a friendly conversation. "You mentioned that Eponine was preparing for something?"

"Oh, yes!" Cosette remembers how beautiful Eponine looked. "She was so beautiful in this pretty red thing! She's going to this high class party later tonight."

Fauchelevent is fully aware of the kind of people the Thenardiers were; he hopes that nothing disastrous happens at this party. Cosette's sad smile does not escape his notice. "Aren't you going too, child?"

In response, she let out a little chuckle. "Oh, no! It's not my kind of crowd! I'd stick out like a sore thumb!" Fauchelevent notes that her voice was an octave higher and that she starts fiddling with her fingers.

"If Eponine can go, so can you." he smiled warmly.

"But I'm-"

"I can help you. I've been saving up for a special cause and I know people who are willing to help."

Her eyes widen and her moth forms a small o. Vigorously, she protests. How can she ask such a huge favor from the only person who sincerely smiles at her with kindness?

Monsieur Fauchelevent, Jean Valjean, holds up his calloused hand to silence her. He breaks her line of protest firmly. "I insist. It's the least I can do."

Her mouth wavers into a grateful smile that bursts with jubilance and merriment. Quickly, she wraps her skinny arms around his neck. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, Monsieur Fauchelevent!"

He embraces her tightly; his heart is warm from seeing her whole face light up like Christmas. "Consider it as my birthday gift to you, Cosette."

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**A/N: Aaaand it got all Cinderella-like!... Or did it? I'm excited for the next one! I've got tricks up my sleeves. *chuckles like a little kid in a candy shop* Next one has more of Antoine, promise. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Les Miserables? Not mine. Longer author's note at the end. Reviews... Please?**

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Chapter 3

"Smile, Antoine," Madame Enjolras whispers to her straight-faced son. "You will scare off the guests." His mother has been introducing guest, mostly young women his age, to Antoine Enjolras ever since he stepped foot in the huge ballroom. He must admit that his father could throw a grand party with impressive entertainment and tight security; he also suspected the bright lights and frivolous decoration were his mother's doing.

Antoine plasters a forced grin on his face. Madame Enjolras resists the urge to roll her eyes in front of a guest. Instead, she leads the guest towards the extravagant buffet table, her long teal dress billowing behind her.

"And that won't scare the guests more," Charles Combeferre comments dryly next to Antoine. Antoine shoots him a glare that could maim. "Would it kill you to smile, my friend?"

"Yes," Anotine relaxes his facial muscles, dropping the joyful mask and resumes his aloofness. "In fact, it would kill me to smile at these self-righteous, vain, narrow-minded-"

"Antoine!" Both men turn to a young man dodging a sea of people to reach them, his dark hair was tousled, which was unusual in this event. "Charles!"

"Courfeyrac!" Charles clasps his hand on Bernard Coufeyrac's back when he arrives. Bernard Courfeyrac dislikes his first name; he deems it unattractive to women. "_I mean seriously! It's a name for an old man! No offense other guys named Bernard but what woman would be seduced by: Hey there pretty lady, name's Bernard, what's yours?"_ Since then, he preferred to be called by his last name.

Courfeyrac spots the sulking Antoine giving the crowd the evil eye. Playfully, he nudges the marble statue to grab his attention. "I see you're still the life of the party as always, 'Twan! Who are we trying to kill with our glare this evening?" Feeling extra mischievous, he loops his arm around Antoine. Normally, Antoine is never amused by people casually invading his personal space, but when the circumstances that are not to his liking combine with his dear friends' cheeky jokes, he becomes more bitter.

"Don't call me Twan," Antoine shakes off Courfeyrac's arm but that does not dampen Courfeyrac's high spirits.

Thus, their discussion regarding Antoine's new nickname is officially in order. "I think Twan is better than Anty or Annie. Twany isn't that bad either." Courfeyrac thinks out loud.

"What about from Enjolras?" suggests Charles.

"Yes... Not much names we can get from Antoine. Antoine sounds so... royal and classy... like a name of a king or prince."

"I like Enjy!" Charles quips with a grin; his smile reaches his dark eyes behind his glasses.

"Prince Enjy... It suits him so well!" Courfeyrac gives him a thumb-up. "Coufeyrac approves!"

"Then it is settled! You shall now be called Enjy! H-Hey! Don't ditch us, your highness!" Antoine already has his back turned as he heads towards the table at the corner. Even in his annoyance, he gracefully sits on the chair and crosses his arms. Charles and Courfeyrac follow him and occupy the chairs nearby.

"Maybe you should relax," Charles worriedly suggests to Antoine. "Even if you won't dance, have a drink, chat with people and meet someone new without wanting to roll your eyes."

Courfeyrac helpfully joins in. "Meet a girl, take her dancing, take her outside, taker her to a whole new world, take her to your bed-"

Antoine throws daggers at him with his eyes. As a result, Courfeyrac shuts his mouth instantly; thankfully, he knows when he's going a bit too far with his fun. Charles says, "He has a point though…" His innocent brown eyes widen when he reevaluates his words. "No! Not about taking her t-to your… a w-whole new world! B-but meeting a girl! It won't do you any harm in meeting a girl. You don't even have to make her your girlfriend or whatever."

"Not that you'll have any problem with that. You're definitely not like most guys." When he catches sight of Antoine's not amused face, he continues on anyway. "I'll make you a deal, my friend. If you talk to one girl tonight, whether she likes you or not, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the party after you dance with her. You have to make an effort to be nice… and _smile_. Anything to get you a social life, Enjy."

Antoine's ears perked up slightly. A night of peace was rare for him. If he talks to one girl now, Courfeyrac lets him be then he could silently escape this wretched party and go back to his books when the clock strikes midnight. He nods, "I'll do it." _What can possibly go wrong?_

_"Ouch,"_ Courfeyrac dramatically places a hand above his heart. "You really don't like me talking to you."

For the first time that evening, Antoine smiles genuinely. "Just not about parties and women, my friend." His eyes search for a decent woman to converse with; someone he doesn't know, someone who doesn't look condescending and someone who probably doesn't wear too strong perfume.

* * *

"Shit," Eponine slightly loses her balance and patience with these black heels. Sure, they are only three inches but Eponine almost never wears high heels with a tight-fitting dress. In her papa's schemes before, she watched out for cops or pickpocket from pedestrians, not walk around seducing men with a sultry smile and excessive swaying of hips! Although looking back, her papa did try to get her to do that but it ended with her practically skinning a drunkard's face with her nails and a trip to the police station. Her papa must have thought it was not worth the trouble.

Stumbling from the elevator, she steadies herself by placing a hand on a bare wall. Looking up, her brown eyes widen in awe and her jaw falls to the ground._ "Wealthy bastard,"_ she whispers to herself. _"Elegant wealthy bastard with expensive glass decorations and loads of food,"_ Her first whim is to dash to the buffet table and wolf down all of the appetizing delicacies but her gut told her to wait until she can swipe at least a necklace before stuffing herself. Her fingers reach for the only piece of jewelry she owns, a silver necklace with a red stone pendant in the shape of a raindrop, for good luck. Feeling more motivated, lifts her chin higher then dives into the sea of people.

The intricate arts of thievery and deceit take time and effort to master. Eponine, growing up with parents such as hers, is no stranger to the ways of a con man. With her swift fingers, charismatic small talk and years worth of practice, manipulation became a second nature to the young Thenardier.

"Great party this is," Marius Pontmercy nods to his friends. "Too bad Antoine doesn't seem to like parties much."

Jean Prouvaire's crystal blue eyes twinkle when he gets all poetic and romantic. "The vivid lights may brighten the room but the beautiful faces brighten my heart."

Benjamin Bahorel exposes his white teeth in a wide smile. "Too bad you don't brighten theirs, Jean."

"Courfeyrac seemed to be enjoying himself. How many times have I seen him chatting to different women in the past hour?" Francoise Feuilly uncomfortably rubs the back of his neck; he was unaccustomed to these sorts of social gatherings and prefers to decorate fans or read books. "Joseph has been examining the buffet table for almost an hour to check if the food is safe to consume." He casts a worried look at Joseph Joly asking Bossuet if the chicken smells funny. Bossuet smiles wearily and shakes his head but Joseph continues to fuss about it anyway.

"At least this time he did not ask for all the guests' past medical records." Benjamin smirks then takes a sip from his glass. "It's a good thing too that he already completed his shots."

"Got us all vaccinated too," Marius sighs, rubbing his left arm thoughtfully; he was never fond of needles.

"Aha," a sly smile replaces the worried frown upon Eponine's face. "Tricky little watch we've got here, it took me long to get you but I got you!" A golden watch, worth more than everything she owns put together, glistens under the bright lights of the party.

"Hey guys," Marius asks his friends in a horrified tone. "Have you seen my watch? It was my grandfather's; he'll have my head if I lose it!" Turning around like a lost puppy, he spots Eponine a few steps away holding his watch in her slender hands. "That's mine, Mademoiselle."

Muttering a curse under her breath, the thief feigns innocence, her round brown eyes turn into saucers and she gives him back his watch. "Oh, I apologize, Monsieur! I found this thing on the floor. I was about to look for its owner… but it seems that its owner has found me." _Distraction_, she reminds herself, she needs to distract him from figuring it out. Shoulders back and chin up, she offers him her hand, which was adorned with various bracelets and rings that were not there when she arrived, for a handshake. "Eponine… Jondrette."

Instead of shaking her hand, he carefully takes her hand in his own larger one and presses his thin lips against the back of her hand. "Marius Pontmenrcy, pleasure to meet you, Eponine."

One touch of his lips is all it takes to capture Eponine's cold heart. Her whole body seems to be glowing with embarrassment and flattery. Her stomach churns, her head spins, her pulse beats like a drum and her breathing shallow; is this what they call love? Is this the same feeling fools blabber about in their drunken state? Surely, the heart knows what it is doing! People do say to follow one's heart for it will lead you to the right path.

"The pleasure is all mine… Marius."

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**A/N: Before you judge me with my names for the Les Amis, can I confess that I've not done reading Les Miserables? I'm only at Valjean's trial b-but I swear I've done my research! So to make it easier for me, the first letter of their first name is the same as the first letter of their last name! Does that sentence make sense? Idk. Combeferre seems like such a Charles, to me anyway. I really like the name Courfeyrac so he's still Courfeyrac. If I'm not mistaken Bossuet is Lesgle's nickname... And I tried to be funny, I really did! But I'm not sure since my mom tells me I have a "weird sense of humor". **

**Antoine sounds like a princely name to me... Maybe it's because I'm so used to common names like John, Mark... or Bob. I also learned that Antoine was pronounced****_ AN-twahn_****! I wasn't so sure before. Ehehehe, Twany. This is what I get from writing all day. **

**Review? So I don't feel like I'm babbling and talking to myself... **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Been gone for a while. Went on a vacation with family and stuff. **

**Disclaimer: Who own Les Miserables? Not me!**

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Chapter 4

What is more beautiful than a dance? What is lovelier than a song? What is more enticing than the bright eyes of a partner? The world melts away and the clear walls of tranquility protect us. Spinning and twisting, two halves are woven together with an invisible thread. The lost is found. The alone is with company. The void is filled.

* * *

The young Thenardier's appetite is gone. The mouth-watering dishes do not appeal to her anymore. How can it appeal to her when she feels full? Full of what, you ask? Eponine herself does not know! Never has she wanted to run her finger through anyone's dark hair. Those eyes still hold her captive, even though he lingers in the opposite side of the room. Her hand still burns from his kiss; and so does her heart.

"Excuse me," a man's voice interrupts her thoughts. The voice is smooth, silky like one would expect from a singer's. Eponine looks at particularly well-dressed man in a black suit, polished shoes and slicked blond hair. "But I have not seen you before."

This stranger is even taller than Marius, so tall that he practically towers over Eponine. Normally, Eponine would study this stranger to the point that it would seem as if she were staring but her mind has wondered back to Marius Pontmercy. How kind and courteous Marius was and how he seemed to overlook her attempt to steal his priceless watch. "Oh, yes. I have not seen you before either." she absently replies.

Antoine covers his mouth with his balled fist to hide a cough, glancing at Courfeyrac and Charles at the corner not far fro here. _I've done my part. May I leave now?_, he silently sends them the message. Courfeyrac shakes his head and makes an X with his arms whilst Charles gestures him to go on with the conversation. Begrudgingly, he complies with the two.

"I am Antoine Enjolras..." he says awkwardly. "Does something bother you, Mademoiselle?" Antoine may be stiff and dull to some people but everyone knows very well the young man can act civil and _will _act civil unless provoked. This girl's mind is obviously far off into God-knows-where; her brown doe eyes are glassy, her red-painted plump lips form a light smile and her fingers keep brushing the back of her right hand. A necklace with a red stone settles a bit below her protruding collarbone, Antoine makes a mental note. "You seem… distant."

When she does not respond, Antoine looks over at his friends for guidance. Charles grins rather broadly and gestures at his face, _smile, Enjy! _Inexperienced at the matters of willingly meeting a young woman, Antoine awkwardly smiles but she remains oblivious.

_Pick up lines,_ Courfeyrac mouths with a suggestive wink. Groaning internally, Antoine questions his friendship with these two. _What did I get myself into? Is all of this even worth the trouble? _Contrary to popular belief, Antoine indeed does have a sense of humor but it is just a bit... odd to most. _I will not turn back now, not after going through everything... but I will regret this later, for sure._ "So… um… are you a bullet? B-because you just pierced my heart." Both men who were listening not far from here burst into instantaneous guffaws until tears began streaming down their faces and their sides ache. _Is it too late to wring their necks? Why did I even agree to this ridiculous scheme of theirs? They will pay for this._

Eponine's dreamy expression shifts into a baffled one as she blinks back to reality. "I'm sorry, what?" Let us make one thing clear, Antoine Enjolras does not blush. This is the first when his whole face reddens in utter humiliation and his palms feel cold yet sweaty. For the second time that day, he unconsciously runs his long fingers through his blond hair. He cannot bring himself to look at the lady in the eye but instead his eyes flicker back to Courfeyrac and Charles, rather irritably. _I will have your heads mounted on my wall._

The two don't notice the deadly glare Antoine sends them. Ask_ her to dance!_ Charles silently shouts, still wiping tears from behind his glasses. Meanwhile, Courfeyrac pretends to be dancing with an imaginary partner to emphasize his point. He sways to the music with grace and grabs Charles by the sleeve then takes the chuckling boy as his new dance partner. Together, the pair mockingly waltzes around like little children, ignoring the unusual stares from the guests.

"Dance with me?" the words are forced out in a harsh tone. He does not wait for a response, grabbing her by the arm, he leads her to the dance floor and she has no choice.

Despite his irritation, he lightly takes her hand and positions his other hand on her waist which causes her to recoil notably; she had not danced like this ever since she was a child. Her past whispers little memories into her ear; how her father would twirl her around the in lobby of the inn, how her mother clapped to the beat of the music and how all her siblings eventually joined in. The tall man leads her into a steady dance and she follows. "Is something bothering you? You've been staring at air for the longest of time. Quite frankly, it's rude."

"Sorry," Eponine says sheepishly. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

The ends of her elegant plain crimson dress flutters when he spins her; her delicate fingers tuck lose strands of curly brown hair from her stylishly messy bun to behind her ear. Since the dress did come from her father, she suspects that it was stolen; how it was stolen and whom it was stolen from, she did not know and she does not want to know. Perhaps it was from a wealthy woman about Eponine's size or maybe a bit shorter. Before leaving the house, she thought her reflection looked decent enough. That was mostly Cosette's doing. Not jaw-dropping gorgeous or blindingly beautiful... just decent enough to get her through security. What did Marius think of her dress? Did he think she was wealthy and well-educated like all of the women in this party? Was she stunningly beautiful to him? Did she capture his heart like how he captured hers? Her dance partner's voice broke off her train of thought once again. "You look as if you're thinking of someone; A special someone perhaps, judging by the natural blush on your dreamy face." The man's offhand comment and suspicious tone mean no harm but Eponine's defenses rose like a barricade; she may be starting to fall for Marius but she will not stand teasing from strangers.

Eponine, being an impulsive creature by nature, digs her nails into his hand; he cringes at the unexpected action. "I will not take ridicule from a stranger, no matter how rich, Monsieur."

Antoine, like Eponine, does not tolerate disrespect especially when uncalled for. This mysterious women disappears inside her head for most of the part then she gets mad at him for trying to make conversation? To top it all off, her long nails rather hurt! In the next twirl, he lets her crash into his person without apologizing. His voice is dangerously calm. "I do not appreciate your tone, Mademoiselle."

The corner of her lips twitch with vexation; the tiger is released from its cage. Their dance quickens its pace with heated anger and tension. In every chance she gets, she purposely stomps on his foot and innocently smiles, "Oops," In return, he crushes her fingers in his tight hold and carelessly moves, making her accidentally bump into tables, "my bad." They make it a point of glaring at each other the whole time throughout the dance. It seems as if this has become a sort of competition between the two dancers.

Amusingly, to all the spectators, they found their dance rather adorable. It seems that they have mistaken sardonic smiles, pretentious laughter and angry steps for young love. People see what they wish to see, no matter how obvious the situation is. Both sides are very passionate souls; they move to the music of their beliefs and morals. Every step they take is a tidal wave of emotion. We must not forget that passion, like a incandescent flame, can light up a dark path or burn down a whole village.

"Oh! Look at how he spins her! Remember how we used to dance like that? So lost in each other's eyes, we'd bump into other dancers!" an elderly lady clutches her husband's hand. Her husband nods, "I remember. We used to dance that quickly too. Unfortunately, my bones aren't as strong as they used to be."

"Aw, she's so clumsy, it's cute!" a woman coos. "Antoine is so handsome! She's so beautiful with that gorgeous dress! Lucky girl! What I would do to be in her heels!"

Gerard Grantaire nearly chokes on his wine. "Is that Antoine? Poor girl, he must be boring her to death with his talk of politics and equality and human rights and blah, blah, blah..." His fingers expertly swipe another glass from a waiter who passed by. "Too bad for her taste of men, she's easy on the eyes."

Charles' face is as red as Eponine's dress from laughter. "Dear Lord! Look at them go! Amazing how she can _still_ put up with our Prince Enjy!"

On the ground beside him, Courfeyrac pounds on the floor with humor and gasps in between laughter. "I... like... her! She's... a keeper!"

"Maybe the prince has found his future queen, huh?" Charles grins.

Eponine's back collides with his front which causes her to yelp. "Sorry," the man whispers into her ear unapologetically. She is about to comment but she gets distracted once again.

A pair of dancers catches her eye; judging from the quiff of his hair and the golden watch, she could guess it was Marius. His dance partner never misses a beat or stumbles in her high heels. Eponine feels a jab of jealousy; the blonde woman is a delicate rose with her ringlets, petite frame and humble white dress. They make a flawless couple. Realization dawns upon Eponine's face. She can see it as clear as day; the way he smiles down at her, the way her pale fingers curl in his hands, their eye contact that never breaks and the way they gravitate around each other. Those two are in love.

Eponine closes her eyes, maybe when she opens them, the truth would disappear. Marius cannot possibly love this mystery woman, Eponine already loves him. What a cruel twist of fate this is! What supreme force out there bares a grudge against her? Why does the world take entertainment in suffering? She opens her eyes and the truth continues to mock her. Marius' lips, the same lips that made contact with her hand earlier that night, are pressed on the woman's forehead. Eponine watches in horror as the blonde woman leans forward to his touch and their lips are about to connect. _Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong_. The clock strikes twelve midnight. Muttering a quick apology, the lady pulls away before they can kiss and leaves Marius staring at the empty air.

"Are you alright?" Antoine's gentle voice whispers into Eponine's ear since her back is still against his chest. Deep inside, he hopes he did not go too far with his childish antics. He is still a gentleman, after all. Admittedly, their game succeeded in entertaining him; this girl fights back with a fire in her eyes, which is rare in an upper-class woman.

"I have to go." She breaks away from him and heads towards the elevator. He lets her go then cracks his knuckles. The girl, whoever she was, has a firm grip and Antoine examines his hands_. No, no, no, no, don't tell me it's gone._ His ring, a family heirloom, is missing from his finger. Cursing under his breath, he goes after the girl who runs towards the elevator.

Expertly dodging people in the crowd, Eponine is close to the elevator. Eponine is such in a hurry that she misses to see an unconscious Gerard Grantaire by the elevator door and trips on his sprawled out foot. "Fuck!" she hisses, gets up to her feet and repeatedly pushes the down button. _Ding_, she scrambles in the elevator lift and closes the door right before Antoine is able to catch her.

Slamming his fist on the closed metal door, he massages the back of his neck. _God damn this! Damn that wench! What am I going to do now?_ A bright shade of crimson red stands out on the marble floor. Picking it up, the pendant seems awfully familiar; it was the same necklace around the lady's neck.

"Hmmm..." Courfeyrac swaggers towards Antoine with Charles trailing behind him. "Charles Combferre, thoughts?"

Charles rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Well, Antoine was really nice at the start but the girl kept zoning out... until you made the bullet to the chest joke. Then it seems as if you offended her... thus the really... um, lively dance. Let's not forget that she had to leave-"

"She ran off, wouldn't be the first woman to be so eager to leave Prince Enjy's presence." Courfeyrac gives a toothy grin.

"- and left you standing there." Charles continues solemnly. He feels for his close friend; it must hurt to be left standing there. He tries to read Antoine's face but the blond man stres off into space, the gears in his mind turing quickly.

Courfeyrac nods. "After careful deliberation... I'd give it a 6 out of 10. We seriously need to work on your social skills. I could help you with that. I mean, who could resist me and my charm? Don't worry the price of payment, I just want a small piece of your glorious blond locks. Joseph swears they have magical properties for healing and I-"

"Courf, now's not the time." Antoine's serious voice silences him. Charles now sees the worry in Antoine's stormy grey eyes, the slight hunch of his back and his balled fists. Gingerly, he places his hand on Antione's shoulder. "What's wrong, Antoine?" As a response, Antoine's lowers his head in shame. How stupid was he for letting that girl go with the ring! He should have been more attentive instead of being distracted by that flame in her eyes and that mischievous smile. "That girl took the Enjolras ring"

There was silence. Antoine could already hear his father's yelling and his mother's disappointed face. He could already feel his ancestors judging them from their graves and shaking their heads. This was more than the ring, he knows that this is personal now. Antoine Enjolras swears that he will find this girl.

Courfeyrac breaks the silence. "You're in deep shit, Enjy."

* * *

**A/N: Was that how you expected the dance to be like? This is where everything gets interesting. Oh my god. Ding dong sounds more like a doorbell.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own Les Miserables**

**Thank you for the reviews!**

** AHAHA. I know the idea was a bit... weird but I don't know... it seemed worth a try and maybe I'm just crazy. Thank you for the lovely review. :3**

**Tip for the future: I get more motivated to write when someone reviews thus, longer chapters maybe even faster updates. ;)**

***cough* *casually brings up my one-shot e/e afterlife fanfic entitled "Tomorrow Comes"* you know... in case you were interested *cough* *awkward smile***

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Chapter 5

One who is always on the bottom often looks up. As he crawls on the barren soil with both hands and feet, his mind wonders off into a realm of beauty and luxury. Eventually, he tires from his fruitless days and attempt to get up. When he does stand, someone shoves him back down. He, who strives for a fine jacket or a brand new hat, is a slave under the watchful eyes of an eagle. Instead of rising from the mud, he ambushes gentlemen and slits the throats of ladies in hopes of adorning his life with silver and gold.

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"Welcome home," his face is hidden under a top hat made from the finest of material but his green eyes twinkle in the dark. Even in the dark corners of the room, his green suit made from fine material stands out; after all, green is the color of money. Lounging on the lumpy couch, he seems out of place in the small shabby house. He makes himself at home; he kicks off his polished black shoes and puts his hands behind his neck comfortably.

Eponine shuts the door behind her with a thud; she grimaces at the sight of him. "What are you doing here, Montparnasse? Aren't you supposed to be out on your crime spree with the Patron-Minette?" Noticing that the house was awfully dark, she questions him further in a menacing tone. "Where are Azelma and Gavroche? What did you do to them? I swear if they're hurt, I'll have your head, Montparnasse."

Montparnasse smirks in response, unperturbed by her little threat. "I look forward to the day you call me by my first name, Marc, once again like when were children. Ah, those were the happier days, huh?" They may have grown up together but Montparnasse has changed a lot. Gone was the once innocent little boy who would play hide-and-seek with her and climb tall trees to look at the vast world. _"I could see tomorrow from here, 'Ponine!"_ little Montparnasse would point to the sun in the horizon from up on a sturdy branch. _"Tomorrow looks beautiful."_ He would urge her to join him and they would watch the sun rise in the morning and the sun set on the afternoon. Eponine knows this Montparnasse is a stranger to her, molded by poverty, crime and her father. Montparnasse removes his top hat, revealing his glossy dark hair and handsome features. "Your papa and mama are out doing what con men do, in case you were wondering… Azelma and Gavroche were already fast asleep in your shared room when I arrived."

She gives him a curt nod and leaves him on the couch. She could not get rid of him even if she tried; he was far too familiar with the Thenardier household. Making her way to the kitchen, she slips off the damn heels before they cause her any more accidents and tosses them to the side of the room. How many times has she tripped over today? Her papa made her take a taxi going there to keep up the at-least-decent-but-probably-not-filthy-rich-girl act; walking home from that party through the dark alleys was a pain especially since that boy was after her. Eponine can still feel his brilliant dark grey eyes on the back of her neck. Free from the cursed heels, she washes off the make-up in the sink; the running water prevents her from hearing Montparnasse entering.

Finished, Eponine wipes her face with a towel nearby and turns to be faced with Montparnasse's emerald green suit; he was approximately a head taller than her. "I liked the make-up on you." Montparnasse takes her chin with his rough fingers; she jerks her chin away. She could feel his green eyes willing her to look at him, tempting her to see past his crimes and the darkness of his soul but she resists him stubbornly. She fell for that act before and she was not about to be fooled again.

"'Ponine," he implores. For a fraction of a second, he transforms into the little, innocent boy she was once friends with. She cannot resist him with that voice. "What?" her brown eyes meet his green ones.

He says nothing. Montparnasse is not a man of words, at least not to Eponine. Hence, she studies his posture, the curve of his mouth, his jaw, the creases of his forehead, his troubled eyebrows and those eyes. Normally, she can quickly tell whether to stay away or to let him be. However, in this moment Montparnasse is unreadable to her.

As if dealing with an untamed animal, Montparnasse slowly brushes his fingers against her cheek first. Seeing no violent reaction or hearing any sound of protest, he cups her angular face in his calloused hands tenderly and more confidently. Leaning down towards her, his eyes disappear behind his eyelids and eyelashes. Eponine stands still, daring not to breath as she feels his breath against her lips as it mingles with hers.

At the back of her mind, she knows this is wrong. "Stop." Caught up in the moment, her words pass through his ear and leaves at the other without processing her firm tone. Her hands against his chest, she pushes him away from her. "I said stop, 'Parnasse."

"Why?" he demands, irked at her ruining the moment.

"This isn't right!" she exclaims. "You… You're a criminal."

Crossing his arms, he gives her an indulgent look. "I mostly steal from rich folks. You're no angel yourself, 'Ponine." She knows he is right, she did many regrettable thing in her past but she knows her intentions are better than Montparnasse's. Unlike him, she steals to please her parents so that her and her sibling won't get thrown out to the streets or beaten into a pulp. Eponine knows everything she does is for her siblings and nothing will even stop her from protecting them.

His eyes drift to her wrists, which still have stolen goods around them; she glares at him and hides her hands behind her back. Indeed, she is shameful of her mistakes but she is not about to admit that to Montparnasse. "You know I have no choice! I don't steal because I want to! Gavroche and Azelma-"

His voice rises too. "But you did it anyway! You followed your papa and stole jewelry from rich snobs! You know what is right and what is wrong but you chose wrong!" He takes a step closer, his green eyes filled with raw anger and accusation.

"I-" she begins to defend herself and her immoral actions. Ever so slightly, she recoils from his ferocity but Eponine was never the one to back down from a fight. Keeping a brave face, she growls, "You don't know me! You don't know anything! You're a heartless monster who only cares about himself!"

There is a flicker of hurt in his eyes which he masks before she can identify it. "It doesn't matter if your intentions are good or not. You did the crime. I know you better than you think." His voice got lower as he leans to whisper in her ear. "You're just like me, a criminal without a choice. You will never have a choice. You can run and run but you'll eventually run out of hiding places. You can't hide from your destiny. Crime is in your blood, 'Ponine." He might as well slap her in the face for his words cut her.

She harshly pushes him off her person. "I am not like you!" she screams at him, flinging her hands in anger. Montparnasse can hear the unspoken words, _I'm not like any of you. I'm not like my papa and mama._ "I am not a criminal!" Controlling herself as to not wake her siblings, she takes a deep breath, shakes her head and restrains her anger. "No… I am not a murderer like you."

Without another word, Montparnasse leaves her in the dark kitchen, grabbing his top hat from the counter on his way out. After hearing the slamming of the door, Eponine sinks to the tiled floor. Her eyes going dull and her face devoid of expressions, she leans her back against the counter. After a few moments, the tears roll down her cheeks. The tears do not stop, they just come quickly one after the other. Eponine vigorously dries her face but they still don't stop.

Now more relaxed, her mind is racing and turning as if her brain is split into two and these two parts are colliding. Montparnasse is wrong. She is not her parents and she will never be anything like them but Montparnasse's words ring in her ears. _You can't hide from your destiny. Crime is in your blood, 'Ponine._

"Eponine?" a drowsy voice calls for her. Gavroche enters the kitchen with his hair sticking up in all directions and sleep still in his eyes. Dressed in a shirt three times his size and loose pants, he rubs his eyes like the little kid he is. Seeing Eponine on the ground crying, he becomes wide awake and quickly crouches down next to her. Gavroche has always been protective of Eponine and constantly tells her that he doesn't need her protection but Eponine just laughs this off. "Did papa and mama hurt you, Ep? If they did, I swear, I'll get back at them for sure. They've already done enough harm to you-"

Eponine tenderly cups his cheek, "I'm fine. Montparnasse just came to visit and... it's been a long night." He could tell from her tone that she did not want to talk about it so he did what he could do. Kneeling down, he wraps his skinny arms around her neck and buries his face on her shoulder. Eponine is startled for only Gavroche hugs her but even his hugs are rare yet she hugs back and silently cries with her brother in her arms. It puzzles her how Gavroche was never loved by their parents and receives the least out of all of the Thenardier siblings but somehow he seems the most optimistic and comforting.

"Someday," Eponine can feel Gavroche's breath on her neck when he whispers his soft wistful desire. "I'll get out of this house... I'll be free from papa and mama. I'll fly off to another land and I will bring you and 'Zelma with me. Maybe then you'd smile more."

Her arms tighten around his small, fragile body as if afraid he would disappear or grow up bitter like Montparnasse. "I'm sure you can fly off to anywhere, Gav. You're one bright kid." Eponine has no doubt that her little brother can do anything he puts his mind to but she knows of her brother's reckless nature. After a while, she decides that it's bedtime. "Come on. Let's get you in bed before papa and mama get home... and you look like you need a good night's rest."

Gavroche's wide eyes peer from behind his messy mop of hair when he pulls away from her slightly. "Will you tell me a bedtime story, 'Ponine?"

"It's too late for bedtime stories, Gav." When they were younger, she would often tell stories off far off places with mythical creatures and daring swordsmen fighting for a damsel in distress. Azelma's and Gavroche's eyes would grow into the size of saucers and they would hug themselves with excitement and suspense for the happily ever after in the end of the tale. All of her stories had a happy ending. Unfortunately, Eponine outgrew all those fairy tales long ago when life began darken for her. She no longer believes in magic or miracles but still... it would not hurt to tell Gavroche just one story for old time's sake. They have a staring contest, his huge pleading eyes versus her authoritative frown. In the end, she surrenders, "Fine, you win but just one short tale then you sleep."

"Yes!" He pumps his fist in the air. "'Ponine, can you tell me the story of the boy who didn't grow up?"

* * *

"What's gotten into Antoine?" Bossuet whispers to Joseph Joly who is seated next to him. The hypochondriac shrugs, he mentally reviews several medical illnesses in his mind. "Maybe it's a psychological thing. He seems well... I can't really tell if he has a fever from all the way here. The last time I tried to put my hand on his forehead to check, he swatted me away. I don't think it's safe to try again right now, especially when he is glaring at the wall."

The blond man, dressed smartly with a red jacket, stares quietly at the white walls of the Musain while his fingers incessantly drum on the mahogany table. He sits alone on a table on the corner to not bother any of the customers of the cafe while the rest of his friends are huddling on a table nearby. He spends his time concocting a well thought out plan to find this woman. Perhaps he can use his father's many connections or his mother's friends who collect jewelry or ask around but his parents must never know that he lost, no... He did not lose it. The Enjolras ring was _stolen _from him. The woman from the party distracts him with memories of her pretty dress, her brown curls, her hazel eyes and her grace. No, she did not strike him as one of those rich woman with wealthy parents but there was something _extraordinary _about her. Clutching his blond mass of curls with irritation, he makes minimal or practically zero progress on his plan. Even for the leader of Les Amis, his behavior is very strange.

"It's not Antoine. It's Prince Enjy now." Courfeyrac corrects in a matter-of-fact tone, proud smirk and tilt of his chin upwards. "You must address the prince with respect, commoners."

"But Antoine-" Benjamin Bahorel straddles a chair with his dark hair under a cap.

"Prince Enjy," Courfeyrac interjects in a sing song voice.

"-has been brooding since the party. Charles, what did happen to him during the party? Did they use the ice sculpture of him? I know he absolutely hated it but... It was a pretty good ice sculpture... The artist captured his glare perfectly."

Francoise Feuilly absently plays with his fan on the table. He is positive that Antoine would have loved his fan for its blue-white-red color scheme. "Yeah, and those cheekbones and that chin must have been difficult to sculpt."

"Not to mention the luxurious curls," Jean Prouvaire wiggles his eyebrows. "One can frolic in that meadow of patriotic glory."

"I still think it'd be better as marble rather than ice." Gerard Grantaire takes a swig from his bottle.

"_Anyway,_" Charles stops their ridiculous conversation before the prince hears them. "Antoine-"

"GOD DAMN IT, CHARLES." Courfeyrac brings down his balled fist to the table, making the cups full of coffee and Gerard's beer bottles shake a bit. The other boys jump at the sudden violence. Courfeyrac glances at the prince who, thankfully, is still engrossed in his deep thoughts. "Disrespect to the prince can have you hanged... or worse! He can blind you with his perfect teeth! You already have glasses, Charles! Have mercy on your eyes!"

A random customer shots them a death glare for their noise. His top hat rests on the table as he sips on his black coffee. The Les Amis ignore the suspicious fellow's threatening look.

"FINE!" Charles throws both his hand to the air with frustration. "_Prince Enjy-"_

"THAT'S BETTER."

Charles shot him one of his rare silencing glares. "Shut up,_ peasant_." There were howls of laughter and whistling from the boys; Charles Combferre is a gentle soul but he can be just as fierce as anyone else. Jean Prouvaire reassuringly pats the top of Courfeyrac's tousled hair, "Don't worry, Courf. You are not a peasant to me. You're more like a jester." Courfeyrac's laugh is soft compared to the other's but more heartfelt. "Thank you, Jehan."

"Okay, Prince Enjy is feeling down because the woman he was dancing with stole the priceless Enjolras ring."

At this, the suspicious man's ear perk up. Straightening up a bit, leaning towards them slightly and eyes glistening selfishly, he eavesdrop on Les Amis' conversation about this priceless ring.

"You mean _the _Enjolras family ring?"

"A woman actually put up with him for a night?"

"Dancing? He knows how to dance?"

"Well he _is _a prince."

"That rusty old ring? Why would anyone want that piece of trashy jewelry?"

"Rusty... that is not hygienic or sanitary."

"It is not rusty and it's priceless, a family heirloom passed on from generation to generation!"

"A woman from the party actually stole it from our marble prince?"

"Woahhh. That is impressive."

"What? Did he try to seduce him to divert his attention when she stole the Enjolras ring?"

"Enjy can be seduced?"

"It's _Prince _Enjy to you, servant!"

"One cannot seduce a statue."

"Hey, I am NOT a servant!"

"Did she offer him a drink or two?"

"Enjy doesn't drink but damn, he can use one."

"PRINCE Enjy does not drink."

"Statues do not drink."

"OH STOP WITH THE STATUE COMMENTS."

"YOU DO NOT RESTRAIN MY FREEDOM OF SPEECH. I SHALL NOT BE CHAINED BY YOUR SHACKLES OF INJUSTICE."

"That is so Antoine Enjolras."

"VIVE PRINCE ENJY!"

"Isn't the purpose of the party is for him to meet a woman, maybe fall in love and get a life, isn't it?"

"AHAHA. Marius beat him to that. Where is that love sick puppy?"

"Off to find the woman of his dreams, I sense."

The stranger stops listening because of the sudden switch of topic. Besides, he knows enough about the ring to find it himself. The memory of Eponine Thenardier's fine collection of jewelry is as clear as day in him mind.

Swiftly picking up his top hat, Marc Montparnasse smirks as he leaves the Musain Cafe.

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**AN: Well? How is it? This was so much fun! I pray that you understand what I was trying to imply about Gavroche and Montparnasse. All hail Prince Enjy. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Les Miserables is not mine. In fact. I do not own ANYTHING. **

**Thank you for the follows and reviews! Does that mean we're friends now? :3**

**ksjaggahdgsdkjghjh. Forgive me. No E/E scenes yettttttttt. (Besides it's only chapter 6, we've got a lot of chapters for that!) I am so excited to write that but I must write this chapter. It is important; believe me it is. Though kinda boring... even to me. (I remember saying the story is not JUST about the E/E romance... so you have already been warned.) I'll make it up to you guys just tell me how and I'll do my best.**

**Brighter side: I did write a E/E one-shot. Hopefully that can compensate for this chapter.**

**Some please tell me if the pacing is too slow. I can speed things up a bit faster if you guys want.**

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Chapter 6

The words "Thank you" is worth an entire world when spoken from the lips of a loved one. Coming from a stranger, appreciation would warm one's heart and send a rush of delight throughout his being. Often, people undervalue those two words, thinking them to be common or deceitful. A man whose life was once barren walks on a broken road in hopes of coming across a place to call paradise. During that toilsome journey, the self-righteous throw rocks at anything "unclean" or "tainted" using their heavy arms and slingshots. The poor man's heart only hardens more until a beam of light shines on him one day thus his life is renewed. He, a stranger to kindness and love, genuinely smiles for the first time.

"Monsieur Fauchelevant!" Jean Valjean immediately turns at the sound of his name being called by a young woman. He was about to sit down on the park bench when he sees Cosette rushing towards him, a bit out of breath. Even before he can properly greet her, Cosette flings her thin arms around him, laughing like a young child. "Thank you, sir! The party was the most amazing thing I've ever been to! There were lights, delicious food and, and, and-"

"Slow down, slow down," Valjean chuckles at the sight of her glowing face. Her smile reaches her sapphire eyes that now shine through her messy curls, malnourished body and secondhand dress. It is as if her problems are temporarily gone into thin air. "Sit down before you begin to tell me everything that happened."

Doing so, Cosette obediently sits herself down and takes in deep breaths to relax. _Breathe in, breathe out. Don't get too excited, Cosette. Breathe in, breathe out. _She cannot stop the giddy, slightly mad, giggle escape from her.

_Jeepers, I need a close female friend or maybe just one friend my age. _Madame Thenardier once told Cosette that she, just a tiny two-year-old baby, was left on their doorstep in a woven basket long ago when they still had the inn. _"Left_ _a letter too saying that yer mama couldn't take care of you anymore… something 'bout being too sick or whatever. Lazy, if you ask me! Who just leaves their little brat on a doorstep for busy people to look after? Did we look like an orphanage to her? Girl, you make yourself useful to us! Money doesn't grow on trees and prices go nowhere but up!" _Living under the Thenardiers never gave Cosette the chance to go out and make friends. Maybe except the Thenardier children and their childhood friend, Marc Montparnasse. In retrospect, the little troublemaker always hated her; he pulled her hair, made her trip on his muddy shoes and threw apples at her from up the trees. The little child Cosette used to wonder why that rowdy rascal would have a halo above his head whenever Eponine was around. _But now... Marc is sour all the time, even to Eponine._

"Okay," Valjean, who is seated right next to her, leans back on the bench. "Tell me everything that happened." At the night of the party, Valjean took Cosette to a nearby salon so that Toussaint can help her prepare. Having enough faith in Toussaint, he let her take care of the dress, shoes, make-up and all of that while Valjean took care of the expenses. (Fashion and Cosmetics is definitely not Valjean's division) Fortunately, the owner and workers were generous enough to pitch in and lent the salon. _"Of course, Monsieur Fauchelevent! We are still grateful for you lending us the money to start the business! Let us repay you in anyway we can. We'll transform the girl and bring out her beauty! She'll be shinning, shimmering and splendid!" _Although Valjean was a bit hesitant knowing how flamboyant they were, he was not disappointed with the results. At the end, they clothed Cosette in a simple, modest white dress with her blonde hair in huge ringlets and minimal make-up. _"What else can we do? Toussaint was such a big help. Cosette is already naturally gorgeous and too much sparkle would just ruin it... Ugh, it would have been tacky! Yep, this is much better on her... Her smile brings out her eyes." _Valjean provided her with a ride going to the party and a ride back. _"You would have to leave at midnight, Cosette. I only borrowed the car from a friend and I suspect Eponine Thenardier would not linger in the party for that long either." _Nodding, Cosette got inside the black car. Valjean watched as the car drove away into the night.

"I was so scared at first! It was so beautiful! It was like a fantasy come true!" Cosette begins to tell him of all the guests, the music and how marvelous everything was. Listening closely, Valjean would nod and occasionally ask a question. "And there was this boy I met," her eyes became hazy. "I was seated down when our eyes locked. Before I know it, he was in front of me and asking me to dance. It was quite funny, actually... He was so shy. You could have compared his cheeks to tomatoes for they were so red!" She laughs fondly at the memory. "He also stepped on my foot once or twice, just like in Madame Thenardier's favorite romance movie. I couldn't feel the ground below my feet... I was flying."

Awkwardly, Valjean shifts in his seat. He has no experience or knowledge about young love because he does not have any children. Actually, he practically considers Cosette as his little one. "Oh? Really? T-That's wonderful, Cosette! What is his name?"

Blushing, Cosette bites on her bottom lip and casts her eyes downwards. "I... I do not know. I did not even introduce myself. I had to leave before..." The memory of her almost first kiss colors her face a vivid shade of red. "Well... it was midnight and I had to leave."

Sensing there is more than what she is letting on, Valjean lets it slide and checks his watch. "Oh, I must leave. Someone is expecting me at this time. Will you make it back home safely?"

"Yes, Monsieur Fauchelevent," Cosette nods. She is never missed in the Thenardier household. Monsieur and Madame Thenardier are normally out at this time and she knows the Thenardier siblings do not mind her absence. It is easy for her to slip in and out of the house as long as she is at home when the Monsieur and Madame are around. "Thank you for everything again."

"It was my pleasure, Cosette."

* * *

Madame Enjolras sips Jasmine tea from her favorite teacup. Oh how much she loves tea. It never fails to calm her when her husband and her son argue about the most trifling thing. Over the years, it seems that she needs more and more. Antoine only becomes more stubborn as the years past.

She enjoys the sunlight from outside in the garden as she sits by a bush of roses. "I do not see why you are interested in this, Antoine."

"Is it wrong that I am a bit curious about gemology?" Antoine politely declines James', the butler, offer for a warm cup of Jasmine tea. Madame Enjolras notices that Antoine's hair is uncombed and there are dark circles underneath his stormy grey eyes. _What is going on inside that head of his? _

Shaking her head slightly, she puts her teacup down, "No, it is not wrong but... I am worried about you, Antoine. You have been preoccupied with your thoughts since the party. Is something wrong? You know you can tell me anything, darling." As a little boy, Antoine would prefer to lock himself in a room rather than go out and play with the other little children. Since then, his behavior has not changed that much. Madame Enjolras thanks Charles Combeferre and Bernard Courfeyrac for forcing Antoine out of the mansion every once in a while.

"Nothing is wrong, mother. I just need the address of your friend who collects jewelry. Maybe she can help with my research."

"And why not just check the internet? Or the library. You practically live in the library." Antoine cannot deny that.

"I was thinking... that maybe it would be better to go out and be better acquainted with your friends." In truth, Antoine had already tried the internet and the library which explains the dark shadows under his eyes and lack of sleep. Both did not have any useful information to him.

Madame Enjolras is unconvinced. Searching his eyes for perhaps an answer, she sees an uncharacteristic uncertainty and despair which unnerves her. Whatever he was going through, it took a toll on him badly. She knows her son too well, he will not rely on anyone to fix this problem and believes he can solve this on his own. If she presses him on telling her, he will pull away completely so she has to be cautious about this. "All right... But tell me what are you doing this for?"

"I told you that I am just interested in-"

"No, Antoine, really," she is wounded that he does not seem to trust her. "Do not mistake me for a fool. I can see the desperation in your eyes." Leaning closer to him, she cups his cheek and locks eyes with him. In a much more gentle tone, she implores, "please, do not keep things from me. No matter what you did, I am your mother and I will help you go through this."

Antoine shuts his eyes; he does not want to see the disappointment in her eyes. "The Enjolras ring was stolen."

* * *

"W-Welcome home, Monsieur Valjean," Toussaint bows then takes his coat. Toussaint is a woman a bit younger than Valjean himself with a slight stutter but a great servant nonetheless.

Smiling, Jean Valjean asks her, "where is she?"

"At the library, s-sir. You know how she loves her books. S-She has been waiting for you." Toussaint leaves Valjean to prepare dinner in the kitchen.

Jean Valjean makes his way towards the library. The Valjean manor is a wonderful sight, not as fabulous as the Enjolras estate, but still one of the oldest homes. Its halls are adorned with portraits of his ancestors and other precious decor. There are many doors that lead to various unused rooms. The mansion may be huge but it is also empty and a bit eerie to a newcomer. Eventually, one gets used to the piercing silence.

"Ah! Monsieur! Hello!" the lady is sprawled on one of the couches, surrounded by thick books and scattered pieces of paper. Her skin is as pale as snow. Her wavy brown hair is pulled up in a bun instead of reaching down her back. When Valjean first met her, she was this poor, sickly thing with short cropped hair and a gap in her set of pearly white teeth. Unlike before, her whole face lights up like Christmas now. It is difficult, almost impossible, to see that woman shivering in the cold as she waits for her next meal.

"Hello, Fantine." Valjean takes his favorite spot in his armchair. "What have you been doing?"

"Hmm..." she flips through pages of a book about a bean stock and an ogre. "Well... I was here all day just reading." Picking up a hardbound novel, she happily comments, "I just finished this one. It's about far-off places, daring sword fights and a prince in disguise."

"Does the heroine find out that he is a prince?"

She nods. "Yes, she does." Opening the book, she skims through it until she finds what she is looking for. "Here, at chapter three."

How did Fantine end up at the Valjean mansion, you ask? Long ago, Jean Valjean was not the kindhearted man you know him as. With only wealth as his companion, he grew cold and bitter for greed is a monster that feeds on the lonely and tired. He had more than enough money to last a lifetime. Eventually, his sister, along with her children, left the mansion to live with distant relatives. The parting was not a sad one for they were never close to begin with. Valjean spent countless sleepless nights alone in the darkness. One day, an elderly bishop knocked on his front door. _"Donations for the less fortunate, Monsieur Valjean? The children in the orphanage would highly appreciate anything you can give during the holidays."_ Valjean denied indifferently. The benevolent bishop saw how lonely and miserable the rich man was and offered, _"would you like to spend Christmas eve with us, Monsieur? The children love having guests around." _Once again, Valjean shook his head. The bishop was insistent, he would knock on Valjean's door every Christmas to ask the same question, _"Would you like to come and celebrate Christmas with us? We always have room for you. You do not have to be alone on the holidays."_ Valjean would always say no.

One Christmas, he accepted the bishop's offer. Why? He himself does not know. Perhaps it was because his sister stopped sending letters. Maybe it was the fact that he found out his youngest nephew had died starving. Or it might be he was tired of being alone. Alone, he was always alone and hallow. No friends, no family and no joy. What is the purpose of his life when there is nothing but hatred and bitterness? He could have ignored the void in his chest but it would have consumed him whole. So, why not just accept the Christmas invitation? What did he have to lose? Nothing, he had nothing to lose because he had nothing at all.

It was as if someone had lit a candle in Valjean's life. Like someone had turned his life around towards paradise. He spent his days in the orphanage or around town under the alias, Fauchelevent. As Monsieur Valjean, he never left the mansion unless it was for business purposes so no one would really know his face. It was perfect, he had a secret identity like some sort of hero. _  
_

Fantine came to him one Winter night when he was headed home. A young woman who shivered to her bones, her clothes were torn as she clung to his coat, begging for shelter. _"Monsieur, I have lost my pride and my dignity. I have lost my child and my innocence. My daughter... I left her with an innkeeper. I have lost everything but please... Please do not let me die in the snow. I shall pay you back someday." _She had fainted on the spot and Valjean brought her to his home, whispering that he will protect her from now on.

Back to the present, Valjean moves to sit beside Fantine on the couch, carefully fixing up the pieces of paper and books. He takes the book from her hand, shuts it and piles it along with the rest. "Fantine..." he starts.

Looking up to meet his gaze, a smile plays on her lips. "Yes, Monsieur?"

"I saw Cosette today at the park."

Fantine sits up straighter as if lightning had struck her. Before she can stop herself, the questions spill from her mouth one after another. "Oh! Is she well? Or is she being treated badly by those awful Thenardiers? Is my baby safe? My precious angel, if only I can see her myself! Then I can stop asking you to watch after her for me. Thank you, Monsieur Valjean. But I really must go and see her myself! I've seen photographs but that is not enough. Maybe you can take her to see me? Oh, she won't even recognize me, it has been so long! I would be a stranger to her! I'm her mother and she won't know who I am!"

"Fantine," Valjean calms her down. "You're sick, remember? You cannot go out to visit her. You need all of your strength to get better." _There is no hope for her recovery. The doctor said so. But I must not give up now. It would break Cosette's heart to meet her mother when she is this ill. _A voice in his mind whispers, _it would crush her to meet her mother in her death bed. _Valjean breathes in and breathes out. Guilt clouds his thoughts. _You should have let them meet long ago when you had a better chance. You could have gotten Cosette from the Thenardiers and adopted her but you didn't. Now Fantine is dying and Cosette still thinks her mother is in her grave... She might as well be in her grave._

"I've been sick for years... Maybe I can get better when she visits me. Medication can only go so far." There is silence after that. _My days are numbered. I have to see Cosette soon. Before I... I know I asked Monsieur Valjean to wait for me to get better before seeing her but now... I don't have much time. My Cosette... _Changing the morbid subject, she asks him about her Cosette. "How is she, Monsieur? My Cosette? Was the party fun for her? Did she enjoy herself?"

"I believe she is in love."

Fantine shrieks with delight. "She is? That is wonderful! My Cosette in love! I remember when I met her father. He was such a charming man! Felix Tholomyes is his name. I wonder how he is..."

"Felix Tholomyes?" Jean Valjean's eyes widen at the familiar name. The arrogant man runs his own company and lives not far from here. Now, he can see it. Cosette slightly resembles him, not much but it's there. Personality wise, the two are nothing alike. While Cosette is a selfless child, Felix sees nothing other than himself and his problems.

"Yes," Fantine ignores the shock in his voice and recalls the time she and Felix have spent together. "It was just for a short while. We did not have much in common and he abandoned us but I still think of him. Love is strange like that."

* * *

**AN: The chapters just keep getting longer... Was that boring to you? I miss the Les Amis and the statue/prince jokes... Gavroche in the next one. :) **

***And I'm not French and I have never been to France so I'm going to be really general about places and such, okay? I'm not a doctor or a business person either so... let us not get into detail about all of that. My main concern is the plot, all right? Sorry for my ignorance. **

**There are a lot of College and High School AUs out there... Did anyone ever write Kindergarten AU? I could use some cuteness. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: If I owned Les Miserables, there would not be a disclaimer.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and stuff! They make my day. :) **

**The fanfic, Bruises, was so cuteeeeee. I don't even ship them but that was adorable. Thank you for the suggestion! :)**

**Next one. I promise. The next one, we'll get down to E/E business. **

**This one's mostly about Gavroche.**

**Warning: This chapter is going to start a bit... violent. Well... I don't know if it is violent for you but there is a lot of swearing.**

* * *

Chapter 7

Sometimes, running away does not mean being weak. Sometimes, it is better than we escape the source of our unhappiness. We look back at people we left behind but we force ourselves to look ahead. There is no point in dwelling in painful memories for so long. Not knowing exactly where we are heading, our feet do not stop, stomping on dirt and fallen leafs. Through thorn bushes and murky water, the runner still hears the yelling and feels the bruises yet he grins. He is as free as an exotic bird. He will fly off to another world.

* * *

"C'mere ya little bastard!" Monsieur Thenardier's fist misses, punching thin air. In a blink of an eye, the kid is gone from his grasp.

The boy with light hair taunts him, "you're nothing but fucking asshole who picks on his kids! You don't deserve any of the treasure! It's not even yours to begin with! Eponine stole them from the party, not you!" He is perched on a kitchen counter while Thenardier is a few feet away. Adrenaline makes the child forget how frightening and dangerous his papa can be.

"Don't you tell me what is mine and what ain't!" Sensing the old crook about to attack, the boy pulls out a blade from the knife holder. "How dare ya point that at your papa! I raised you, you ungrateful piece of trash!"

Yelling back, he finally lets out all his caged anger and hatred for the pathetic man. Like a waterfall, all of his resentment does not stop after a few words; it comes down crashing. "I don't have a papa and 'Ponine raised me! She doesn't deserve all the shit you give her! She protects me. She loves me. She loves me enough to protect me from you! Because of you, she had to steal and lie and cheat and you don't give a damn about her! She does all your dirty work and how do you repay her? You beat the living hell out of her for no damn reason!"

"You shut up, boy! Shut up before I get to you and cut off that pointy tongue of yours!" A vein on his forehead is visible in his anger and his whole face is flushed with an enraged scarlet color. Seeing the boy's defenses lower during his rant, Thenardier lunges.

"Get off!" Dropping the knife at the sudden pair of hands around his neck, he digs his nails into Thenardier's arm hard enough to make it bleed. Due to the pain, Thenardier reluctantly lets go. The boy hops down the counter, grabs the knife on the ground and knees the old man on the groin.

"You little shit! Once I get my hands on you, you'll pay for this!"

From inside the Thenardier siblings' room, the two sisters cringe at the sound of their papa's threats. Azelma hugs her knees close to her body as possible, shaking as she sobs silently. Eponine pulls the girl to her and the latter curls up into a ball to shield herself from the harsh voices. One can never get used to the sound of Thenardier's yelling. On the other side of the room, Cosette silently prays for Gavroche's safety, pleading that the boy is spared from any serious injury. With her hand covering her mouth, she gasps sharply at the sound of shuffling footsteps and glass breaking.

"I can't just sit here anymore." Eponine bites her lower lip. "Cosette, take care of 'Zelma. I'm going to go out."

Taking Azelma from Eponine, Cosette lets Azelma cry on her shoulder, drenching her shirt. Eponine stands on shaking feet and leaves the room to see Gavroche lying on the living room floor and the front door wide open. Running to her brother's side, Eponine crouches protectively next to him like he did the other night. "What happened, Gav? What did he do to you?"

Weakly laughing, he responds, "that coward... He ran off before he can do anything serious. I'm fine, 'Ponine. Just a kick to the stomach. I'll be fine, just fine."

Eponine knows he is lying but she does not press on; she will have a chance to tend his wounds later on. The older sister sits in the hard ground; she rests his head on her legs and brushes his hair out of his eyes. "Then why was there a sound of glass shattering?"

His pale eyes meet hers. It is evident that he is in agony, even with the nonchalant smirk on his pale face. "I might have thrown a plate next to his head."

She eyes the open door. Her face furrows with worry and fear. "Where is papa now?"

"Off to mend his broken pride, I guess." What he actually means to say is: _Out plotting revenge_

Gavroche's cheek begins to bruise, she tenderly kisses his forehead. It is a tradition between the two; when one gets hurt, the other would kiss the injured's forehead as a promise. A promise that it will get better, that the pain will end and that someone will protect you. "What am I going to do with you, Gav?"

"Let me go."

Thinking this to be one of his jokes, she chuckles and goes along with it. "Go? Go where?"

"Like I told you the other day..." His tone is nothing but serious, not at all kidding. "Let me fly off."

Frowning, she thinks that he must be joking behind that serious mask. He cannot just leave; she can protect him from their parents. She has been protecting him and knowing that he is safe makes the beatings worth it. Her bruised up body will take the pain gladly as long as she has Gavroche to make her smile at the end of the day. What will she do without him? She does not even want to picture a day without the mischievous boy."Gav... you know I can't do that. You're my brother. We have to stick together."

"Then come with me. We can leave together and we don't need them." He spits out the word, _them_, like dirt in his mouth. "They'll won't stop and you know that. They will keep you here until you rot if you do not leave."

_He has a point. Papa and mama won't ever let me go. They will find a way to keep me here. Although it is tempting to just go now. _"I can't do that..."

"Why not?"

"Azelma-"

"Take her with us. We aren't exactly close but she is still my sister too. I guess it is all right as long as she doesn't rat on us." Unlike Gavroche and Eponine, Azelma turns a blind eye on their father and mother's crimes. Frequently, Gavroche and Azelma would argue about her impassiveness and willing assistance in their parents' schemes.

"I can't just leave, Gav. It's not that simple. Papa and mama may be criminals but they're still our parents. Besides... Where will we go? If we leave, we will starve on the streets. The streets are dangerous with people lurking about, especially at night." Eponine has seen enough beggars on the streets to know that it is an eternal struggle to stay alive._ Survival of the fittest_, Montparnasse had said before. With two growing children, living on the streets is not an ideal place to raise kids. Robbers, murderers, kidnappers and all kinds of danger lingers in the darkness, ready to strike at any moment at all. _Can I really endanger Gav and 'Zelma like that? Just for the chance to get away from my parents? _

"You have a friend... Musichetta, isn't it? She knows us and she said before she'll help us when we need her help. Maybe we can stay at her apartment for a few months until we can figure something out." Indeed, Musichetta can make both ends meet and get Eponine a job at her Cafe. The two are quite good friends, one of Eponine's only friends.

"No, 'Chetta is too generous and too kind to say no. I don't want to abuse her hospitality. I still owe her a favor."

"Let me fly, Ep." Gavroche's eyes beg her for his freedom, a chance to start a new life away from the cruelty. A drop falls on his cheek yet that does not bother him. Holding her tears back, Eponine weakly shakes her head. She does not want her little brother to leave her and Azelma but in her heart, she knows nothing will stop the boy from leaving. He's just asking for her permission to leave, it is the least he can do to repay her. Maybe it is for the best that he goes. A smart kid like him will find his way around. "Let me go, Eponine."

* * *

Back at the Enjolras estate, Monsieur Enjolras is at the drawing room, on an armchair by the window. Hanging up the phone, he sighs and massages the bridge of his nose. Words are floating around his mind: _business, investors, market, numbers and value. _When he closes his eyes, all he sees are numerous digits and statistics. _"There is such a thing as overwork," _a voice says dryly in his mind.

"You're straining yourself. You're just like Antoine or more appropriately, he is just like you." Madame Enjolras scolds her husband from all the way from the couch. She stopped reading her novel when she heard him sigh audibly.

"He is, isn't he?" He chortles as he glances at an old photograph of Antoine on the side table next to the armchair, remembering the little blond boy who hated his picture being taken. The boy was stuffed in a dark suit and his blonde hair slicked back; he was scowling at the photographer. There are moments in his life where suddenly, he would remember he was aging and life is fleeting. Someday, he would be gone, cease to exist, forgotten and dead. It is moments like this when he wishes to hold his son in his arms like when he was just a child. "What has gotten into that boy these days? He didn't even argue when I told him that he looked like he tried to pull all his hair out. Normally, he would just say, _"I believe I am old enough to be responsible for how I look. I am not a child, I know how to dress myself."_ He seems jumpy too, avoiding my eyes."

"I..." Madame Enjolras' eyes meet the butler's, James, silently panicking. James keeps his face stoic as he stands next to the couch. "He has a lot in his mind, I am sure."

"But do you agree it is quite strange? I know Antoine and I know this is out of the ordinary. It started around the time of the party... Did I do something wrong? I must say, I just want him to be happy and perhaps settle down someday but... was this too much?" Madame Enjolras listens to his soliloquy. Once upon a time, Antoine sat on Monsieur Enjolras' shoulders when the kid was too tired to walk. They do not despise each other now but there is certainly a distance between them.

"No, no, don't think that," Madame Enjolras reassures him; she is at his side before he knows it. "You did not offend him. Believe me, someday he would thank you for all your efforts and sacrifices. He is just a boy, after all. He is just stressed since he has been so busy looking for..." She nearly smacks her forehead; Monsieur Enjolras lets nothing slip his notice. _What a stupid mistake to let that slip! _She prays that her husband did not catch that.

"Looking for what?" he asks, eyebrows knitting together.

An awful liar she is, she stutters, "Um... A-Antoine did n-not s-say... I-I.."

The businessman is about to open his mouth when James interrupts, "what the Madame is trying to say is... The young master is looking for someone he had met in the party." Figuring it is better that the Monsieur thinks his son is captivated by a woman instead of hearing about the disappearance of the Enjolras ring, James quickly adds more details to his tale. "Master Antoine danced with a young woman during the party. Ever since then, he has been trying to find the mysterious woman. The other today, he asked the Madame if she knew anyone that matches his description. The Madame, sworn to secrecy, could not have told you anything."

"A woman stole Antoine's attention? Is that possible?"

_Believe me, it was not the only thing she stole. _James nods curtly. It is tense as the two watch Monsieur Enjolras' expression. Can he tell there is more to the story than just that?

Slowly, a grin spread on Monsieur Enjolras' face. "Then we must help him find her in any way we can! I am sure there were other guest she might have known."

Madame Enjolras lets out the breath she did not even realize she was holding.

* * *

Freedom never tasted better! Running through the maze of streets, Gavroche can feel adrenaline course through his veins. He feels like spinning and jumping around. The wind runs along beside him, racing the boy. The youngster intakes the smell of the city, his new playground, his theater. Every day will be a new adventure. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? He can hardly wait! He dreamed of this day for so long and now... it overwhelms him to actually be free.

_But first... I need to get dinner. Thanks to Eponine, I have enough money to last me for a few weeks. _Before he left, Eponine handed him cash to buy for food and such. When he said he didn't want it, she insisted with tears in her eyes. His sister was always a tough kid so she normally didn't cry but when she does, all the world's sadness is apparent in her eyes.

In that house, everywhere he turned to, there is always a wall blocking him from the world. Now, there are no boundaries, just a limitless sky. No one but Eponine truly loves him. Sure, Azelma cares but she seems more like an empty shell to Gavroche. There is an unnerving emptiness in her eyes that chills Gavroche to the bone. Like the life was sucked out of her a long time ago. You can forget his parents ever cared about him. Maybe Cosette, the servant, cares for him. She is always so kind to him, always smiling when there was nothing to smile about. When his stomach growled, the nice blonde lady would sneak him bread and cheese. That old life is long gone.

_"Promise me I will see you around. Don't disappear on me, Gav. Don't completely leave me." _Gavroche replays Eponine's last plea over and over in his mind. He had promised her, _"'Course not. I will see you around all the time. I'll look for you, I swear. Did you really think you can get rid of me that easily? This ain't goodbye. I'm not dying... I'm leaving so I can live."_ Of course, Eponine still held him in her arms for a good ten more minutes before kissing his forehead the letting him go.

"You!" a gruff voice calls. Gavroche makes the mistake of turning around instead of running away. "You bastard!"

Someone grabs his shirt from the back and lifts him a off the ground. He meets the stupid-looking eyes of Gueulemer, a member of the notorious gang Patron-Minette. This can't be good.

"Well, well, well," Marc Montparnasse emerges from the shadows, the other members of the Patron-Minette follow suit. In his usual top hat, Montparnasse dons an extravagant but hideous orange suit. From the showiness and bright color of his suit, Gavroche's eyes gradually start to hurt. _Oh God, that is the worse suit I have ever seen him in. The guy normally has better taste than this. _"Look who we have here! It's a little puppy with a bark worse than his bite."

"What kind of fucking suit is that? It hurts my eyes." Gavroche rolls his eyes. Montparnasse is just a playground bully with a temper, nothing to worry about. Gueulemer, all brawn no brain, is a burly man with his steel grip on Gavroche... He may be a problem. "Orange is not your color, darling."

The Patron-Minette, with the exception of Montparnasse, guffaw at the jab to their leader. Clearly not pleased by the brat's comeback or the fact that his own posse found it hilarious, he mockingly laughs with them. "Ha, ha, ha! You think this is some kind of joke, punk?"

"That's why I'm laughing, right?" The Patron-Minette only roars with laughter. Gavroche lets a proud smile form his lips.

"You are _so _funny." Montparnasse pulls out his gun and aims for the child's forehead. All laughter ceases; it is back to business. Gavroche feels his whole body feel cold. _This is my first day of freedom... And I'm going to die already? _His smile is smacked from his face by that thought. "Now, seriously, Gav."

"Don't call me Gav. Only Ep calls me Gav." The words came out automatically without him weighing the situation carefully. Biting his tongue, he reminds himself he can die at any moment here.

Montparnasse clenches his teeth. "I see. Whatever. I think you know why we're here." Gavroche does not respond so the man with the top hat continues. "Your papa told us you've been rebellious lately, especially earlier today. Don't take it the wrong way. He does not want you back. In fact, he's glad you're gone. A waste of space, he said. But... But he did tell us about your sharp tongue. You see, Gavroche..." Taking a slow step towards the boy, a sneer begins to form on his cruel face. "He does not like children with sharp tongues. So he asked us to teach you manners."

_This definitely won't end well._ Gavroche's whole body turns cold and the color is drained from his face. Gulping, he tries to clear his head and think. Gavroche slowly reaches for the knife he grabbed from the kitchen floor and wraps his fingers around the hilt.

* * *

The sun just set, the city is illuminated with lights. The vivid colors and loud noises, just another busy night in the city. Nothing out of the ordinary tonight. The same people running about off home or to their night job. Courfeyrac ineffectively stifles a yawn, almost tripping on the pavement. _College was so boring today. Boring work. Boring lectures. Boring professors. Boring homework. Ughhhhh, so much stuff to do. I don't wanna do that. What can I doooooooo? Maybe I should go catch a movie but with whom? Everyone's so busy with the protest coming up. Maybe Jehan won't mind. Wait... Where the hell am I? _True enough, Courfeyrac finds himself in a dark alley that gives him an awful feeling.

Half expecting something pop out with a knife, he yelps when he hears a soft groan. _What was that? Oh my god. Hold up, it can be just a cat. Don't be stupid! Cats don't groan... not like that. It sounds so human. Where is a pepper spray when I need one? Is that the smell of blood? Blood? _And there it is again. It's a bit louder now but... it sounded in pain.

The student strains his eyes, searching for a body or something out of place in the picture. There! Cautiously treading closer, his eyes bulge out at the sight of the small body.

* * *

Antoine Enjolras is reiterating the plan for the protest happening the following day with a dull look in his eyes. Even so, the atmosphere is thick with austere, no one is smiling or joking. After weeks of planning, tomorrow is the day of action. The man will not bring them down. They shall not be silenced! Even Gerard Grantaire appears sober enough to absorb the blond man's words.

In the Cafe, the door slams as someone barges inside calling for the hypochondriac med student. "JOSEPH! WHERE IS JOSEPH? IT'S AN EMERGENCY!"

Groaning, Antoine calls back, "He's with Musichetta. They left an hour ago to get dinner. What is it now Courfeyrac? I swear if this is one of your ridiculous pranks!" Courfeyrac's pranks can get out of hand sometimes. Everyone in Les Amis has at least one scar to prove how potentially dangerous a bored Courfeyrac can be when he has way too much time in his hands. _Seriously, the guy needs a hobby or a babysitter. _Tearing his eyes from the pieces of paper, he looks over to Courfeyrac's pale face with a limp body in his arms by the entrance. "Courfeyrac, w-what-?"

"I-I-I found him on the streets. I... I panicked. I'm so sorry! I don't know what to do. Please, Antoine. H-he... He's so cold. I-I-I-" Clutching the boy as if holding on to dear life, Courfeyrac breaks down in teary sobs.

Like a spell being broken, Antoine snaps out from shock and starts barking orders. The leader of Les Amis is completely back, like before. "Charles, call an ambulance! The nearest hospital is too far to walk, he'd die of blood loss. Prouvaire, get Joly and Musichetta on the phone right now! Joly would know what to do! Bahorel and Feuilly, clear out the tables! Marius, some cloth stat! Lesgle, fetch clean water! Grantaire, put that bottle down and find a way to stop the bleeding!"

By the door, Courfeyrac hears none of the leader's orders. His whole body is shaking as tears cloud his vision and roll down his cheek to the boy's face. Such an innocent face like that should not be contorted in pain. "I am so sorry, buddy," Courfeyrac's voice quivers. "I didn't know what to do so I brought you here. Don't worry, you'll be fine. We'll take care of you. I promise you'll be okay."

"Courf," Antoine's voice bring him back to reality. "He'll be fine. He will live. I promise you. But he needs medical attention now. Let him go, Courf."

* * *

Eponine wakes in cold sweat. Her dream was a nightmare. Trying to reach for snippets of her nightmare, it comes to her in no chronological order. Running, there was definitely running. Muddy sneakers were hitting the warm pavement. An image of a knife, one used for slicing vegetables, in the small hands of a boy slashing fabric then eventually skin. Gunshots ring in her ears, she loses track how many piercing sounds. Police sirens coming from the corner, an offer in uniform arrives. A limping body hides behind the garbage cans. More running, a chase of some kind.

She clutches her head as she feels a headache coming on._  
_

The visions in her mind blurs but she struggles to decipher them. Far too soon, it's all gone. The air sweeps them away from her grasp. Closing her eyes, she tries to slip into slumber. Like lightning striking her, she bolts right up because of something she recalls.

Stormy grey eyes, it was the same pair of angry eyes that has been haunting her dreams for quite some time now. Eponine cannot help the feeling that something will surely happen tomorrow.

Eponine tugs the chain around her neck. She can feel the ring against her bare chest under her loose shirt. Apparently, she had lost her necklace with the red stone-though it was not worth much- somewhere and ever since then she has felt this whole in her chest. And the ring, she does not know why or how, appealed to her. As if it was calling to her. A bit of an odd trinket, it seemed ancient and a huge E was engraved on it. The little kid in Eponine would like to think that the E stands for 'Eponine'. Before she knew it, she began using the ring as her new necklace.

Plopping back to the bed, she dreams of Marius Pontmercy.

* * *

**AN: Review, review, review? Please? **


	8. Chapter 8

**I did A LOT of editing. Practically changed the whole chapter. :D**

**Took a while... a long while but I am done editing! YEEEEY.**

**Better? Worse? Tell me! :)**

**I shall not rest until I get this right! **

* * *

Chapter 8

When you left, I promised myself I will find you. I will search every inch of this city, under every rock and above in the sky. Nothing shall stop me from seeing you again for you have taken a piece of me along with you. Because of you, I've spent days and nights on a wild goose chase and it seems that the odds are against my favor. Yet, I know all my efforts will not go down the drain. It will be worth it.

* * *

"Give it to me!" His nails digs into her arm. How did he find her? She has been careful these past days, avoiding trouble like the plague.

"What are you talking about?" Struggling to pull away, he effortlessly pushes her to a wall. Eponine flinches at the sudden pain at the back of her head. The ground under her feet sways a bit.

In a low voice, he grimaces at her, "You know exactly what I'm talking about. At that party, you stole a ring. Where is it? Give it to me!"

Her head throbbing, her scrunches her face in confusion. Unfortunately, this is not the reaction he wants or expects so as a result, he takes her chin in his hands then forces her to look at him. Playing dumb would not help her in this case. Nonetheless, he talks slowly, pronouncing every word clearly as if talking to a three-year-old. "Where is the Enjolras ring? You have it. Don't act stupid. You know where it is because you have it. You have it because you stole it a few days ago. Give it to me."

_Oh, that ring. So the E in my new necklace stands for Enjolras? What an odd name. And that boy I stole it from... The boy I danced with. That's Enjolras? _That wonderfully high class party seems like centuries ago. Eponine tries to recall Enjolras' face in vain. Montparnasse's face hovers before her, merely inches between them. What to do? What to say? Eponine may not know why the criminal wants the ring but it cannot be good. "I don't know what you're talking about, Montparnasse! And why would you want that anyway? I gave all the things I stole to papa."

He yells at her, digging his nails further in her tanned skin. "You idiot! That ring was priceless! I could have gotten a truckload of cash for that tiny thing! No..." Eponine resists the urge to look away from his piercing glare and keeps her face blank. As he observes her expression closely, he notices a crack in her perfect stoic mask. "You have it. I can see through your lies, 'Ponine! You have it with you! Give it to me! Or you'll never see your brother!"

At the mention of her younger brother, anger stirs up inside Eponine. Visions of her dream come crashing down on her shoulders, adding to her guilt. She demands him, "where is Gavroche? What did you do to him?"

He is glad to have provoked her. Enjoying her distress, he continues on about the job he had. Ignoring the pain in his side from a healing stab wound, he lets a smirk form his lips. Maybe it is a bit too early to be going around with an injury but this matter cannot wait. When an ambitious man is filled with greed, he sacrifices almost anything to get what he wants. A pain to his side is a small price for that ring which causes millions. "Your papa asked me to take care of him. Of course, how can I say no? That damn kid can hold a knife, I've gotta tell you that. Too bad he can't take a beating. The kid put up a good fight, I might want him part of my little group if he is still alive-"

"You'll never get Gavroche part of your gang! He's better than that!" Eponine spits in his face, knees him and dodges his claws. Glowering, she casts him one last look before dashing off to find her brother. She begins praying to anyone who can hear her, "please let him be alive. Don't take him from me. I need him."

* * *

A man sits on the corner of a restaurant with his back pressed against the wall. It is crucial that we pay close attention to this particular man for he plays an important role. Tall and scrawny, his loose shirt falls low and hides several pockets on his old pair of denim pants. He dons no hat, exposing his balding head. His face, though calm and concentrated at the moment, is capable of contorting into an angry, monstrous face as seen in nightmares. In his hands, he clutches the newspaper for the day but his eyes do not scan the page nor does his mind process the black and white pictures. Instead, he nods to a woman, who is seated a few tables away, in a subtle manner, of course. She stops chewing on her fresh bread.

This woman is someone we should also remember. Her dirty blonde hair is pulled up, exposing her neck. She has this subconscious habit of keeping her chin up in the air haughtily as if thinking she is better than you. Maybe once she was very pretty but age has ruined her fine features. Her lips are still plump but chapped. Her eyes are pools of mixed emotions that turn into spears when they need to. Even when she is smiling, her bitterness is apparent to those who carefully study her.

The woman acknowledges his signal by coughing into her handkerchief. At first, her coughing is soft then it becomes forceful and hard. The customers of that certain restaurant glance at her direction with concern. Some ask her politely if she is all right. While the woman nods her head to the kind people, the man carefully observes the other customers. He notices that there are not much customers present. An elderly couple, a group of three teenagers, a lady on her phone, a man reading a novel and a young couple. It is slow today in that small and humble restaurant.

Standing up, the woman slowly makes her way to the restroom, still in her coughing fit. Eyes from all over the room point at her as she leans on the wall to cough some more. Growing more and more concern, the teenagers approach her to ask if she needed a medic or another glass of water. Seemingly insistent to decline their generous offer, she waves them all off but it gets worse and worse. All eyes, meaning each and every person, are on her.

"Is someone here a doctor? This woman is choking!" the man who was reading his book addresses the customers.

Unfortunately, there are no doctors or nurses around at that time. The coughing woman falls on her knees and her shoulders heave. This time everyone crowds around her when they see her fall. All of them pitch in suggestions to help her. The manager of the restaurant gives her water and this time, she accepts the offer. One of the employees gives back blows but it is not that seemingly effective.

"Someone do the Heimlich maneuver!" Someone yells in panic.

Many people try to help the woman up and she stands shakily. The manager volunteers herself to perform the Heimlich maneuver. Quickly standing behind the woman, she balls her fists and positions it approximately around her navel area. She covers her fists with her other hand then begins thrusting up and in until bread is expeled from the woman's mouth.

There is cheering and congratulations from the gathered crowd. The woman thanks the manager with a warm hug. The manager is proud of her successfully saving a life that day. Little do they notice the man, who was pretending to read the paper, slipping outside the restaurant. Soon after everyone settles back down, the woman leaves the restaurant too.

"You overdid it! It was too dramatic!" The man from earlier grabs her arm. A young girl, about fifteen or so, quietly trails behind him as she carries a basket of bright flowers.

The woman sneers; her face now devoid of all the pretend joy. "What do you mean I overdid it? They believed me and that's all that matters, right?"

The young girl interrupts their budding argument but in a hushed tone. "Papa-"

The man turns and glares at her, his eyes piercing through her. His tone is harsh and cold which she should be used to by now yet she cringes. "What is it _now_, Azelma?" He says her name as if he were cursing.

Like her sister, Azelma's skin is tanned from hours under the sun. In fact, they do look alike in some angles. Azelma is about the same height as Eponine but not as bony, taking after their papa's lanky frame. Azelma's hair is straight, long and dirty blonde just like their mama's. Unfortunately, she is too plain-looking and very timid to be interesting to most people. To the Thenardiers, her invisibility in a crowd and her ability to blend in make her the perfect pickpocket. That plus the fact that she turns a blind eye to their immoral ways, the Thenardier couple normally tap her when they need something done as quickly as possible.

"Papa... we're not in the clear yet. We're still in front of the restaurant. They might see us." The girl has a point but Monsieur Thenardier would never, _ever_ say that out loud. With his hand still on his wife's arm, he hauls them away from the restaurant and marches a few blocks away. They are in plain sight and out in the open so he schools his face and lets go of his wife's arm.

"What did you get?" Madame Thenardier asks eagerly, a spark of greed in her eyes.

Monsieur Thenardier's hands feel several of his pockets. "Loaded wallets, a few watches, spare change and even two cell phones. Not bad from a small restaurant, eh?" His mad smile gives Azelma chills but she presses her lips together and clutches the handle of her basket. Sometimes, she wishes to be like Eponine, all strong and protective. Other times, she wishes to be like Gavroche, brave and determined. But there are times when she does not want to be like either of them. Why can't she just be herself? Right, because she thinks she is weak and fragile. She can't disobey her parents or she'll get hurt. She can't obey her parents or she'll be a criminal. Azelma is trapped, caught in a dead end and has no where to go. Sometimes, it's maddening.

Her papa's voice brings her back from her thoughts. "What are you still doing here, girl? On your way!"

Azelma takes off to the other side of the street and into position. She can feel her papa's eyes on her even from far away.

* * *

"Thank you anyway, sir," the man returns the necklace with a red stone to his coat pocket. A bell rings as he leaves the dingy shop. When his mother's friend and his father's connections failed, he took his search to the streets. He mentally crosses out this shop and the whole block. He asked around in every store, every shop and even a suspicious-looking man in a trench coat since the protest ended earlier. So far, his hunt proves fruitless.

His body is weary from the protest earlier. Last night before the little injured boy came into the Musain, Antoine was giving a speech and instructions about the protest that took place earlier today. All in all, it ended how it usually does: Antoine gets injured and tired. Today's rebellion earned him a huge scratch on his arm (_It might be infected, Prince Enjy!)_, a nosebleed (which reluctantly Joseph Joly helped him with), sore feet and a cut on his lip. Do not ask him how he got his injuries, he does not enjoy violence. Thankfully, no one was really seriously injured.

Time easily slips from his mind. Looking up, he sees that he sun is setting. Orange, blue and hints of pink color the sky and highlight the fluffy clouds. To clarify, he checks his wristwatch. _Mother would be wondering where I am. She has been keeping tabs on me. I am not a child! I can take care of myself! _Sighing, he stuffs his hands into his coat pocket and clasps his hand around the necklace. _It will all be worth it when I find her and get the ring back. _He makes his way towards his home.

"M-Monsieur?" a voice calls his attention. Antoine turns to his right to see a young girl of around fifteen years old holding a basket of assorted flowers. Antoine may be called intimidating to some people but the girl shies away from him so he puts on a smile. The girl is one of the reasons why he has his protests. From the simple fact that she is not a home and that is she is selling flowers, he can tell she has lived in poverty. The plight of the poor is something Antoine takes very seriously and does whatever he can do to offer a hand to these people.

"Yes?" He asks nicely. In contrast to the Amis' belief, Antoine is not made of marble nor is he a statue. Just like every other normal person, Antoine is capable of emotion and kindness towards children.

The girl gives him a small smile, feeling more comfortable to the stranger. "Would you like to buy some flowers, Monsieur? My mama grew these in her garden." Actually, her mama stole them from their neighbor's garden. The next day, their neighbor would wonder who cut off all the roses in her bushes then argue with her husband about it.

Antoine has no use for flowers right now. Admittedly, he does not have a girlfriend or a lover or a romantic interest. Surprising, I know! If he brings flowers to the hospital tomorrow, the Amis would definitely make fun of him for that and maybe the flowers would have wilted by then. Thinking, he could always give some to his mother. It is a cliched and cheesy idea but his mother has been worrying about him and this girl is in need of the money. "All right then." Asking her how much for a single rose (sickly sweet but he does not really need any more flowers), he pulls out his wallet from his trousers pocket and hands her the payment.

"Where are your parents?" Antoine questions her as he stuffs his wallet back into his pocket. The girl's face becomes unreadable for a moment then she stares at her dirty sneakers. "They're out, I guess. Out earning money."

The girl picks the best looking rose out of her basket then gives it to the nice man. Antoine nods at her vague answer and perhaps it is a sensitive topic for the girl. Azelma tries to avoid lying as much as possible. She has done much worse like stealing and manipulating; she does not want to sin more. Bowing slightly, she thanks the man, "thank you so much, Monsieur."

Astonished by the fact that she addresses him as if he is superior to her, he shakes his head. "No, do not bow. We are equals."

She raises an eyebrow at that and her face furrows. "Equals?"

It is a popular fact that Antoine grabs every opportunity to preach to an interested individual about his cause and his ideals about justice and freedom. The Amis has heard all of his lengthy speeches a million times over and over but they never tire of it. There is a ignited flame of passion in Antoine's voice and his words are beautiful to hear. So naturally, he takes this chance to inform the girl about her rights. "Yes, equals. You and I are equal. Everyone is equal, no matter who you are or where you come from. Your gender, age, skin color, occupation, salary and opinion does not make you less than anyone else in this planet."

The girl wonders who this man is and why does he think she deserves anything good. She breaks the law for her parents. In fact, her papa and mama are casually observing this man right now as they plan a scheme to pickpocket him. Surely, they have already seen where he keeps his wallet. It would not take too long for them to agree on a plan and act on it. Not too far from here, the members of Patron-Minette scatter around the area for back-up maybe. Azelma notices the absence of Montparnasse though guilt still stirs inside of her which she pushes away with all her might. _I... I can't stop them now. _"You do not know me, Monsieur. I... I am not as nice as you are."

Looking at her remorseful expression, he solemnly says, "that may be true but you do not know me either. Everyone makes mistakes and suffers. That is how life is but there are injustices we can correct." His smile grows larger and wider as he imagines a brighter world. "We just have to fight for what is right."

His words circle around Azelma's head; they make sense. A part of her knows he is right but her parents have always told her differently especially her papa. Remembering when she was a little girl, her papa would always tell her: _The world is a cruel place where everyone eats each other. So you better stay ahead to live._ She would giggle and nod back then but now... She kind of understands why Eponine and Gavroche have been so rebellious. Yet her parents are still there. Unlike Gavroche, she cannot just run away. Feeling her ideas and thoughts collide in her head, she pushes them away for now and turns to the man. "That was lovely but I have to go home."

Antoine hands her a few bills before she goes. "Goodbye, Mademoiselle."

"Bye, Monsieur." _What an odd man... Nice but a bit strange. Seems smart though. I'm sure he'll be fine... _

* * *

Monsieur Thenardier loses what little patience he has. "What took her so long? That damn girl wasted daylight! The sun's set!" He growls as quietly as he can. Finally, Azelma walks away with her basket of flowers. A funny look is on her face, as if trying to divulge into her own mind and deciphering a code. None of this bother her parents, of course. They have better things to do.

Madame Thenardier replies, "I guess we have to work with what we've got. We can use the darkness to our advantage."

"Let's get going then!" In Monsieur Thenardier's peripheral vision, Patron-Minette loiters by the streets and act like normal civilians. The gang is waiting for the Thenardiers to wrap this up so they can rob a house next. Truly, tonight is going to be a progressive and successful one! Unfortunately, Montparnasse is going to miss all the fun with his stab wound. The rest of the guys were luckier, leaving that quarrel with Gavroche followed by the exhausting police chase with just bruises, scratches and broken prides. Doesn't matter, less people to split profit with anyway!

And so they start with their last scheme for the day.

The first step to their seemingly well-thought out plot is Madame Thenardier crying as she walks down the streets. Her face is blotchy and red as tears stream down her face convincingly. In her "grief", her shoulders shake as her feet take slow steps. For a dramatic effect, she pulls out a dirty cloth and wipes her wet face with it then blows her nose.

Normally in their plans, Madame Thenardier takes on the more dramatic and emotional role. It is not difficult for her to gather all her bitterness and disappointments in life then use them to her advantage. Although Monsieur Thenardier often whines about how she is "overselling" it and that she does not have to be so overly dramatic with their scams, she ignores all of this. She is a woman who is in touch with her emotions but hides them all behind her cracked mask of greediness. Perhaps longs before, she would have been a wonderful actress on a stage but poverty has killed that chance.

The second step is for the Monsieur, who bought the rose from Azelma, notices the woman weeping by herself. Being a good citizen, he approaches her gingerly and asks her what is bothering her. Sadly, he stands a few steps away from her politely, not close enough to pickpocket yet. No bother, they have a full proof plan.

"I..." Madame Thenardier starts sobbing. Her voice cracks with emotion. "My daughter! She is starving! I have no m-money, sir. We... we are in much debt already. I'm afraid she might..." She lets out a mournful cry that could shatter one's heart with pity.

The third step is for dear Monsieur to give a generous amount to the talented actress. He pulls out his wallet. Too concerned about the woman, he does not notice how she is now staring at how much cash he's got. _This one's loaded! Jackpot! _Madame Thenardier mentally celebrates. She glances at her husband then gives him a knowing look.

_This one's damn rich, _her eyes convey the message to him. The creeping smirk confirms that he has received the message.

Antoine gives her a reasonable amount before returning his wallet. Perhaps he should be more careful with these things. Perhaps he should not just give money to any needy person. Perhaps he should just not pull out his wallet in the street. But his heart (yes, he has one even though others would joke that he does not have a heart) goes out to these people and their suffering. He feels that he cannot just let anyone suffer when he has the means to save a life. After all, aren't everyone equals?

The fourth step is improvised. Monsieur Thenardier only thought of it at that moment and that thick wallet made up his mind. Licking his lips, he stares at his wife. This a sign to keep the man distracted as he goes in for the cash. Seeing this, she begins chatting to the man, rambling about how kind he is and how much she in in debt to him. She makes huge hand gestures and even pats his shoulder, anything to keep his attention diverted.

Monsieur Thenardier walks briskly, as if in a hurry for a meeting or to get home for dinner. He takes huge steps but his hands twitch impatiently. This better work! He "accidentally" bumps into Antoine, who is trying to calm the woman down, forcefully.

"Sorry, Monsieur!" Monsieur Thenardier says quickly as if he wants no trouble. His hands are in his pockets as he bashfully smiles.

Antoine nods. "No harm done, Monsieur."

Monsieur Thenardier turns away and walks considerably slower now. His grin is cat-like, distrustful and victorious. _That was much easier than I thought! Poor kid looks so smart in his rich boy clothes! Like taking a candy from a baby or a walk in the park!_ He can feel Antoine's thick wallet in his pocket.

Unfortunate for the Thenardiers, Antoine is very attentive. After the encounter with Monsieur Thenardier, the first thing he notices is that he walks much slower now with a skip to his step. He turns to the woman but sees she has gone. Then, it hits him... His wallet is missing from his pocket. _Damn it! _Gritting his teeth, it does not take a genius to figure out he was conned.

"Monsieur!" He rushes towards Monsieur Thenardier. Hearing this, the con man's easy walk turns into a dash. _So close! So damn close! All this cash! _Where is he headed? To the Patron-Minette, of course. A bully always has his gang around him for protection and intimidation.

He takes a turn to a darker street, one of the less populated ones. Actually, the Thenardiers live around here somewhere. Everyone here just minds their own business, no one really cares for another here. It is like a new world, a cruel and dark one. Immediately, he runs towards the Patron-Minette and the Thenardiers, panting at how far he has to run. He is too old to run like this.

"What happened?" Madame Thenardier demands of her husband. "It went so smoothly!"

Azelma stands behind all of them, the guilt eating her up but she feels somehow proud that this man was able to easily find out he was fooled. She feels a sort of admiration for Antoine.

Babet, one of the Patron-Minette, asks, "what do we do then? He's coming closer! And he's already seen you with us!"

Going with his instincts, Monsieur Thenardier says, "beat him up, of course!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Eponine Thenardier is about to call it a day. Ever since she found out that her little brother may be out there bleeding or dying, she has been intently finding any clues on the whereabouts of Gavroche. She has left no stone unturned. At this point, things were starting to look hopeless to her but she cannot give up now. If the tables were turned, Gavroche would never give up on her. Never would he turn his back on her! Her headstrong brother would surely search the whole country to find her.

But he is he were here, he would tell her that she needs to rest.

Heading back to the Thenardier house, she hopes that her parents are still out. She cringes at the thought of her papa yelling at her and asking her where she has been the whole day. Then, her thoughts drift to Marius. Marius, his name sounds nice in her head. She can imagine his arms around her as she walks home alone. In her head, she would hear him whisper sweet poetry into her ear. His breath would tickle her neck but she won't mind. She would feel him so close to her and his touch would send electricity sparking in her. He would be there for her no matter what. She could be poor and broken and he would be there to hold her and tell her she is worth something.

She longs for the day they meet again.

She now stands before her house. The whole house looks dirty and broken with absolutely no life. Maybe this would always be Eponine's life, going back to a house but never calling it her home. Maybe she would never escape this reality. This scares her but she knows that there is no other way. At the end of the day, she will go back to this empty house.

"'Ponine!" Azelma runs towards her.

Eponine sees the girl in her distraught state, clutching to her basket of flowers. "What is it, 'Zelma? What's wrong?"

Azelma's face is paler and sweat makes the hair around her face damp. "Mama and papa... They tried stealing from a man but it didn't work. He chased papa here. Patron-Minette is here too, 'Ponine. Now, they are arguing and it won't take long before they fight! They're going to beat him up! They might kill him!"

The older girl has no doubt Patron-Minette would do such a thing but her papa prefers not to shed blood when he does not need to. Monsieur Thenardier is too much of a coward to have a physical fight of any sort with strangers. Strangely, he is more confident when Patron-Minette is there to back him up.

"Why would they kill him?"

The younger girl's voice is filled with guilt and shame for betraying the kind man. "Because he's rich. His wallet is thick and he looks like a son of a wealthy man. Help him, please."

It has been mentioned that among all the Thenardier siblings, Azelma is the only one who abets to their parent's wrongdoings. Yet, here she is now asking for help to prevent anymore crimes. Antoine has been kind to her, buying a rose from her and even treating her as an equal. But she betrayed him! How can she be so cruel to a kind man?

Seeing her sister's concern, Eponine agrees to help. "All right. Here's what we're doing..."

Hearing her sister's whole plan, Azelma's eyes widen and her eyebrows are raised. This plan can be a bit tricky to pull off especially that they're up against their parents and Patron-Minette who are experts at the art of deception. It is worth a shot though. They are not hopeless for they- unfortunately- have learned from the best. Years of "training" has taught them so much.

This plan will work. It _has _to work.

* * *

The Thenardier sisters' plan is soon in action. Monsieur Thenardier is currently threatening Antoine as everyone else tries to intimidate him unsuccessfully. Azelma silently walks behind the group, willing Antoine to look at her. She does have a talent of blending in. When he does catch her eyes, he does not verbally point her out but stares at her pointedly. Thankfully, he does not give her position away but pretends to be listening to the gang's pathetic threats. Azelma points towards a dark space in between two dilapidated buildings and Antoine raises his eyebrows discreetly.

_Run, _she mouths slowly and clearly as she points.

She can tell from his face that he would do no cowardly thing such as running away. _He's reckless and headstrong... This definitely won't end well if he does not turn away soon. _She starts pleading with her eyes but he does not yield.

Mouthing again, she says, _Plan. _He does not seem to be convinced at this. Rolling her eyes, she makes a gun with her fingers and hand, then she points at the group. Still, he stubbornly declines her offer. She takes her index finger and slides it across her neck which tells him they'll kill him. Antoine does not budge.

_Guess there's only one way to do this. _Azelma screams with all her might. Everyone turns to her, stopping their biting threats to kill him. "What are you doing, Azelma?" Her mama screeches. Taking a deep breath, she bellows, "run, Monsieur!" The gang stares at her stupidly for a moment as they try to absorb that Azelma is turning her back on them.

Now that he has no choice, Antoine runs towards the darkness in between the buildings which Azelma pointed out. A hand grabs his coat and pulls it off then drops it on the ground. "What are you doing?"

A girl replies, "saving your ass!" Taking his hand, she takes off into a maze of streets and alleys. She definitely knows her way around. Antoine tries to protest, taking his hand away from hers but her grip is similar to steel. His mind is spinning and reeling. His feet does its best to keep up with her but he still trails behind her a bit.

After a while, they hear the shrill voice of Madame Thenardier and the roars from Patron-Minette. They're getting closer and closer. Eponine takes a sharp turn and it's a dead end. "Shit!" she curses wildly.

"Who are you-?" Antoine tries to see her face but the darkness covers her. Eponine interrupts, "no time for introductions! They're coming closer!"

The blond man realizes how close the footsteps sound, meters away maybe? His mind refuses to think of a plan as mental block prevents his usually clear mind from thinking of an escape. Gritting his teeth, he is extremely frustrated with himself at the moment.

"Do you trust me?" the mysterious girl asks quickly. It is like a scene in those movies. A leap of faith would change their lives for the rest of eternity or something like that.

Incredulously, he shakes his head. "Of course not! Do I look mad to you? I don't even know your name!"

Rolling her eyes (not that Antoine can see it), Eponine retorts, "well, as you can see, you have no choice in the matter!"

As quick as her hands can work, Eponine unbuttons the first few buttons of his white polo shirt then wrinkles it until it looks like a mess. "What are you doing?" Antoine pushes her away but Eponine ruffles his hair out of its neatly arranged state. Antoine dislikes people touching his hair and it is an issue with the Amis. Much to his dismay, they often combed his hair or placed flowers in it when he would fall asleep in the Cafe.

The girl gives no explanation for her actions, adrenaline seems to be fueling her. "Act drunk!"

Drunk? Antoine does not like to drink alcohol like Grantaire. No, alcohol is just a weakness and a distraction from everything else. Taking time to observe Grantaire in his intoxicated state, he generally knows how inebriate people acts.

He can feel Eponine's soft hands on his cheeks before she pulls his face down. Antoine does not have a second to react to her rash actions. Her eyes are shut as her lips crash against his. He does not even know when exactly he closed his eyes but his mind starts spinning like a top again. Her lips are soft against his and she seems to be doing all the work since he has never kissed anyone before. Feeling her smirk at his lack of experience, she presses herself closer to him and runs her hand through his blond hair while her other hand loops around his neck.

A gruff voice, Monsieur Thenardier, calls, "EPonine? Is that you, girl?"

_Is this some kind of contest? Some strange game of who can make this more believable? Relax__, Antoine, make it look believable. _Now, Antoine has watched a decent amount of romance movies because his mother forces him to watch with her when she feels lonely. Accepting Eponine's challenge, he kisses her back with fervor then he hears her gasp at his sudden reaction instead of just standing there like a statue. She follows his lead now, pressing her tongue against his teeth to ask for entrance and he grants it to her. He presses her against the wall for that romantic thing. His mind feels really fuzzy now as he inhales her scent. It seems that his senses have sharpened and his mind is absorbing every detail. Every touch, her indescribable scent, her soft moan, the way her lips feel against his, her hand playing with his hair, her other hand massaging his neck and their proximity.

Eponine breaks away for a while and gives Antoine time to catch his breath. "Yeah?"

Madame Thenardier rolls her eyes at the sight. Patron-Minette looks indifferently, remembering they have better things to do. Azelma's jaw drop at the sight and her eyes widen like saucers. A bruise is starting to form on her cheek. This is not part of the plan! But... she still smirks at the sight. It is too dark to see anything but she can see two people, Eponine and a man, pressed against the walls. Monsieur Thenardier asks, "Is he paying you, 'Ponine? He better be paying you!"

"Of course, papa!" Eponine replies, annoyance lacing her voice which Monsieur Thenardier would have berated her for in not the presence of Eponine's 'customer'.

When they leave, relief washes over both of them. Soon, too soon, she pulls away first. He only realizes his lack of oxygen and the heat in his whole body now.

"Are you okay? You look... distraught." Nodding, Antoine looks at everywhere except her without making mental notes about their surroundings. "Don't I get a thank you for helping you back there? After all, you do owe me now." This bring Antoine to look at her in the face. A bit of light shines on them from the moon. There is something strangely and vaguely familiar about her. "Thank you, Mademoiselle."

In the light, he can see the smirk form her lips. "You are welcome and thank you for the kiss. It was lovely."

"I... Uh... I am Antoine." He decides that he should introduce himself.

Eponine grins, "that's a nice name. Antoine..."

Their eyes meet in a second before they lock. Those eyes. Antoine has seen those eyes before. Those brown mischievous eyes that burn with fire. And she recognises him too judging by how her eyes widen. "I... I know you! You, you were there at that night!

"No, monsieur, I don't know what you're talking about." Eponine is a great actress, he must admit that, but he won't let her slip through his fingers again.

Stepping towards her he demands, "where is it? The Enjolras ring, where is it?"

"I don't know! I don't know what you're talking about!" she yells back, angered by his sudden harshness. Of course she would deny knowing where it is, if she gave it to him, she would be thrown into prison.

"Really? You do not?" he glares at her. "Well then, this isn't yours?" He pulls out the necklace with a red stone then watches Eponine's face fall. "Give that to me!" she reaches for her necklace but he is too quick for her. "Let's trade, your necklace for my ring," he says. Eponine purses her lips, "I can't get arrested. I can't, especially not right now."

Then, she runs off but he does not follow her. Antoine can feel the connection between them like they are chained together in a way. Without a doubt, he will meet her again soon.

* * *

**AND I AM DONE WITH THIS. *hysterical laughter***

**Well... I noticed that I haven't put much Thenardier in the story. So I took this chance to add some depth in Azelma and Madame Thenardier. **

**It seems like Thenardiers like stealing from Antoine. Ehehehe. **

**How is it? Is this better?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: No, still not mine.**

***I HAVE EDITED THE LAST CHAPTER. COMPLETELY CHANGED IT so... I suggest you read it before going on***

**Reviews/criticism/comments/happy thoughts are ALWAYS welcomed, okay? Just try to be nice. They help in improvement and motivation.**

**Chapter 9 in which I try to redeem myself.**

* * *

Chapter 9

People are complicated things with their own unique way of thinking and perceiving information. Does anyone really have any right to suppress another's rights or to dictate what is right or wrong? Often times, people do not see eye to eye but even clashing objects have some similarities. It is those common thoughts or experiences that bring people together. Moreover, people who have drifted apart can be reconciled at any moment; it all depends upon them. Actually... despite how intricate individuals may be, the answer to their problems normally lie before them.

* * *

Eponine clears her throat awkwardly but continues to walk anyway. An uncomfortable silence hangs around her and her companion as they roam the streets in search for Gavroche. Cosette volunteered to come and aid Eponine in her search for her younger brother. Eponine steals a glance at Cosette who seems to be in deep thought but an absent smile curls her pink lips. Under the daylight, Cosette's hair looks shinier and cleaner than it usually does and her face seems to glow with this happiness Eponine does not feel. Madame Thenardier always said that Cosette would always be a plain, ugly child but Eponine secretly disagrees with her mama. Every time Eponine looks at Cosette, she often associates the blonde with words like: happy, bright and sunny. There is something that pulls people around the servant despite the grime and her fearful eyes. Maybe it's her vulnerability and innocence which makes her so endearing and not to mention her kindness.

"Cosette," Eponine says hesitantly. Might as well try to be friendly if they're going to spend time together. Eponine feels a bit lonely without Gavroche and Azelma is doing their papa's dirty work to give Eponine some time to look for Gavroche. Their parents only bother with them when they want something. Eponine seriously needs to catch up with Musichetta or make new friends which she is not that great at. Cosette... She seems lonely too. Eponine wants that friendship they had when they were children, so young and innocent. Maybe it's not too late to be friends again.

The other girl looks at her with that dazzling smile as they continue walking. "Yes?"

Eponine speaks what has been bothering her for hours, "why are you helping us, Azelma, Gav and me? We... we haven't been exactly nice to you since we were children." It is true; time has changed the Thenardier kids but Cosette remained sweet and loving. When Cosette first came into their inn, they accepted her with open arms and a warm smile for their new friend. Seeing their parents being so mean and sour towards the blonde servant of the house, they followed suit and began to think themselves higher than Cosette. At the point where they had to move to Paris because of debts, Cosette became the least of their worries. Cosette was-_ is_- just someone at the sidelines, a witness who watched in lonely silence but is there when you need her. Sure, mama and papa still hate her but Eponine did not; She felt this awkward quiet distance between them.

As expected, Cosette did not take offense at Eponine's blunt question. "We are, um, _were_, friends before. I still think that friendship matters even if you do not." She looks like she has a lot more to say about their childhood friendship but doesn't. "Gavroche is a sweet kid and I'm worried about him." Her face looks guilty for Gavroche's disappearance even though it is not her fault.

Eponine says softly but loud enough for Cosette to hear, "it matters... our friendship before. You were the only friend I can really talk to. Montparnasse was there and we were close but... That kid was always up on his trees and running around. He was like all the other boys, insensitive and covered in mud. Azelma is my sister, which is completely different. Gavroche was too young, just a little baby. Can... we be like before? Friends?" Cosette's eyes shine with... tears? Eponine begins to panic. Did she do something wrong or say something out of line? Instead Cosette stops walking then quickly hugs Eponine, almost as if afraid Eponine would push her away then says, "of course we can!"

Relief washes through Eponine. Then she changes the topic when she remembers why they are aimlessly walking around the city. "Are Gav and you close?" Eponine remembers Cosette sneaking extra food to Gavroche and tending to his wounds.

The blonde nods slightly. "I guess you can say that. When you were out protecting him by helping your father, he was lonely at the house. I guess we bonded over our loneliness." Cosette can see Eponine's eyes asking about Azelma. "Azlema likes being alone... Sometimes, she would be out with your mama or papa." The day Gavroche left, Azlema clung to Cosette as if her life depended on it, as if Cosette would save her from drowning in her tears. That makes Cosette think that maybe the younger girl feels even a tiny bit of nostalgic friendliness towards her. Or maybe it was because she had no one else to comfort her.

Eponine nods. "Can we take a break for a while? Gavroche doesn't seem to be in this part of the city." And there it is, the fear and guilt creeping upon her face and voice. Gritting her teeth, Eponine reminds herself of her promise to do whatever it takes to find her younger brother.

Thankfully, Cosette does not comment on her pained expression and nods. Living with the Thenardiers has taught Cosette when to give someone space to solve their own problems.

Minutes later, they arrive at the Musain Cafe. Unusually, the Cafe is practically empty and tranquil at the moment due to the absence of a certain group of students. Eponine rarely goes at the Musain for she never really has the time or money to loiter around but she is close friends with the owner, Musichetta.

"My friend owns this place," Eponine says as thy enter through the front door.

Cosette smiles fondly as she surveys the entire place from top to bottom. "It's nice here and quiet."

"Trust me, it isn't always this quiet. Actually, it's almost never quiet but thanks." Musichetta appears behind them in a blink of an eye. Her pearly white teeth show off when she grins widely at the two girls. She is taller than Eponine or Cosette but a few years older than them. Eponine pushes down the envy for Musichetta's flawless skin, soft features, red lips, long eyelashes and model-like structure. With her raven hair pulled up, she wears her uniform. "Eponine, dear! How have you been?" She embraces Eponine in a warm hug and the other girl hugs back just as warmly.

"I've been good, 'Chetta." Eponine smiles as happily as she can. "This is Cosette, by the way." Gesturing to the blonde girl, Eponine watches Musichetta and Cosette shake hands.

Cosette looks so ecstatic to have a new friend. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Musichetta."

"It's great to meet you to, Cosette, but call me 'Chetta. My friends call me 'Chetta." That last statement was meant to be friendly and open yet Cosette's whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. The blonde girl's eyes widen with glee as she says, "really? We're friends?" Musichetta nods, amused and touched by the fact Cosette values friendship to this degree. Eponie, with the same amused expression as Musichetta's, laughs when Cosette throws her arms around Musichetta for a mirthful and giggly embrace.

"She's very lively, huh?" Musichetta grins at Eponine.

* * *

"How is he?" Antoine asks when he enters the hospital room with his messenger bag. The Amis forms a circle of chairs around the boy, all awaiting for the boy's awakening. It is a bit odd that everyone is uncharacteristically grim especially Courfeyrac who sits right next to the child, Jehan right next to him. _I guess he feels responsible for the boy since he did find him dying._

Joseph Joly smiles wearily as he sits on one of the chairs nearest the unconscious boy, his hair sticking up in some places. "I've been talking to the doctors and he's fine. He's just resting but I do not know know when he will wake."

"That's good to hear." Antoine sighs as a weight is lifted from his shoulders.

Charles Combeferre, who is seated next to Joseph, chuckles. "You would have heard it sooner if you actually use your cell phone instead of letting it rot in your bedroom."

Rolling his eyes, Antoine notices some of the boys are missing. "Where are the others?"

"Francoise left a few hours ago to make some fans. Bossuet took the wrong turn going here so now he is at the other side of the city. Benjamin apparently got into a fist fight. And Marius just left half an hour ago to look for the love of his life. Praise the Lord he left; he kept going on and on about love poems and how none of them can justly express his love for his beloved." Gerard Grantaire automatically says with a straight face, yet he never takes his eyes off the little boy on the bed. He is the farthest away from the patient, at the end of the bed, but his eyes are solemn and fixed. Antoine is aghast that for the first time in months, the drunkard did not carry a bottle with him.

"You're sober," Antoine commented and he raises his eyebrow questioningly, still by the door. Gerard rolls his eyes and says dryly, "yes, I know. It's the apocalypse! The world is going to end and carrots will start falling from the sky! The world will burn as an army of bunnies take over the universe! Someone go look for the real Grantaire because I'm obviously some rabbit space alien clone or whatever shit!" He locks eyes with the Prince for a second, daring the blond man to tell him he's an idiot. The rest of the Amis laugh at his dry sense of humor, making the air less tense.

In truth, Antoine held no grudges against the drunkard even on other busy days. Maybe he can try to figure out what goes on inside Gerard's head. Hopefully, it would be easier to talk to him now rather than when he is half-unconscious and drooling on the Cafe table. It is a rare opportunity which Antoine won't miss and maybe Antoine can convince Gerard to participate more in their protests.

The blond man shakes his head. "And why is the royal prince shaking his head?" Gerard drawls out. "Is the peasant's sober ramblings too absurd for his brilliant mind?"

"You're being ridiculous, Grantaire." Antoine says patiently as he leans his back against the white walls of the hospital room. "But no, your 'sober ramblings' are not absurd."

Gerard returns his gaze back to the unconscious boy. "So, I am more useful sober, huh? Unfortunately, I am not always going to be like this. I'll go back to drinking when the boy is fine. Does that upset you, Prince Enjy?"

In a normal setting, Antoine and Gerard did not get along, their beliefs and their actions are nothing alike. Antoine always said that alcohol was just another distraction and that Grantaire was wasting away with his bottle. Gerard would just defiantly take another sip from the bottle in his hand. Secretly, in the private corners of his mind, Gerard looks up to Antoine like a sunflower following the blazing sun. He, among many of those who follow Antoine and his ideas, sits through hours of speeches regarding freedom and human rights. Like every other Amis, he takes orders from the strong leader because he trusts the leader's judgement and logic. But there is something different about Gerard; he is not a sunflower. Sunflowers are pretty things attracted to pretty sunlight. Gerard is far from that; he's like a mushroom, a fungus. A sad fungus that wants something _alive_ and _bright_ in his life.

The other boys chortle at use of their favorite nickname while Antoine shrugs. "Do what you want to do, I can not stop you. You do have rights, after all." Gerard scoffs at how Antoine Enjolras that answer is. What answer did he expect from the serious blond prince? Definitely not a sugar-coated answer but something... encouraging or inspiring maybe. Still, he goes on, "spoken like a true revolutionary leader. You should run for president instead. I can already imagine it. All the posters with your forced smiling face on it with the words: Enjolras for President. I'd totally vote for you."

Les Amis laugh at the image of their leader as president. Imagine all the red and black posters! Maybe he would even have the flag changed to red and black! After a while, Antoine chuckles as well. It is a deep sound that somehow sounds childlike and innocent coming from the fearless leader. "It's nice to see you still have your sense of humor, drunk or not. But it does not make a difference if you are inebriate or not, you are still Grantaire... And thank you for the vote." Antoine smiles but Gerard does not see it because his eyes are still on the boy but he can almost feel the smile radiating like the sun. "You're welcome, your highness."

* * *

Back at the Musain, Eponine and Cosette sit at the table in the corner of the Cafe. Both girls have just finished their drinks. _It's on the house! I insist! You're my friends! _Musichetta was so generous to treat them with free drinks which they accepted tentatively after almost thirty minutes of Musichetta's persistence. Soon, Musichetta left to go to work; they were short on people that day.

Cosette feels the silence but unlike earlier, this silence is much more comfortable instead of unnerving. Earlier, all three of them were able to have casual small talk which delighted Cosette to know more about her old friend and her new friend. It feels nice to know Eponine again in a whole new light instead of just seeing her as the little girl who used to play tag with her. A bridge is finally built between them and it surprises her how easily they became friends once again. Her optimistic, happy personality eases Eponine's anxiousness while she admires Eponine's strength and unwavering hope. Musichetta is lovely person, inside and out. Though she is completely different from Eponine, the two get along quite well because of their witty comments and selflessness. Cosette and Musichetta bond over the more girly things Eponine scowls at but Cosette does not miss the small smile at the corner of Eponine's lips.

"I never got to ask," Cosette starts the conversation and reels the brunette from her thoughts regarding her brother. "How was that party?"

Eponine's cheeks redden at the topic of the party. Whether from the memory of meeting Marius or the dance with Antoine, she did not know exactly. Her plump lips tingled from the kiss she constantly tries to avoid thinking too deeply about. But now, it all rolls off like boulders from a mountain and Eponine cannot stop it. For sure, she still likes Marius, and the fact that he is still in her dreams is proof. Her stomach flutters at the sound of his name even just in her mind. When she is not thinking of Gavroche, her thoughts wonder to Marius but since that incident with Antoine... Without a doubt, there is a string that ties them together which Eponine cannot shake. That kiss, that dance and those eyes... Everything about him is so intense yet calm at the same time.

Willing herself to forget about it, she gives an answer to Cosette's question after a long pause, "it... It was fine, I guess." The answer does not satisfy Cosette who is now leaning forward, asking for information with her eyes so Eponine adds more. "Who am I kidding? The party was over the top. The food was heavenly and everything was so high class."

Cosette's eyes become hazy as they do when she is off to dreamland. "That sounds amazing... "

Mentally reliving the night, Eponine recalls her experiences. "It was amazing. But my heels kept making me trip; I tripped over a drunk guy on the way out!" At this, Cosette giggles and so does Eponine. "The decorations, the music and the atmosphere... It was like a dream, a far off fantasy I can't reach..."

The blonde girl places her elbow on the table and props her chin in her palm. "I know... The glass decorations were brilliant." Eponine raises an eyebrow at this but Cosette is still drifting with the clouds. Eponine never mentioned glass decorations before so how would Cosette know that? Unless she was there... But how? The brunette tilts her head, "I never mentioned glass decorations. How did you know about that?"

Eyes widening, Cosette sits straight and starts explaining herself with excessive hand gestures. "I just thought that if it were for rich people, there would be glass! I don't know what... I... Er..." She finishes off lamely then an expression of defeat is apparent on her flustered face. "I have a confession to make... I was at that party." _That is obvious,_ Eponine thinks but nods to let Cosette continue. Reluctantly, the blonde goes on. "Monsieur Fauchelevent helped me get ready for the party after I helped you. He was so kind, telling me it was a birthday gift." A lump forms in Eponine's throat. She has been so worked up with her own problems that she missed Cosette's birthday. _What kind of friend am I? I'll have to make it up to her. _Eponine nods and throws back Cosette's question, "so how was the party?"

Cosette's eyes brighten more, if that were even possible. "I met this boy." Eponine can see where this conversation is heading but does nothing to stop the girl. Contrary to probably popular assumption, Eponine is secretly a hopeless romantic beneath her strong independent personality and reckless behavior. She guesses that is her mama's fault for filling her head with fairy tales and happy endings when she was just a little girl. "He's kind, handsome, smart and he is everything I ever dreamed about!" Eponine smiles along with Cosette. It is a nice sight to see the normally timid girl particularly enthusiastic about a boy she had met in a party she was not supposed to be at.

"What is his name?" Eponine questions, at the edge of her seat.

Cosette's cheeks are tinted bright pink against her pale complexion so it stands out. "I don't know because I had to leave..."

Chortling, Eponine is amused at the turn of events. "You had to leave before you knew his name? What did you two do together then?"

"Monsieur Fauchelevent said I had to leave at midnight." Cosette smiled fondly at the memory. "We did dance. I locked eyes with him, he came to me and he asked me to dance. It was all so magical, like a fairy tale coming alive. I admit he is not the best dancer but he kept looking at me which made my stomach turn. Oh, I don't know what this feeling is but it's... overwhelming! I feel like I am floating when I think of him! It's like my life has begun at last. Does he even know I'm alive? Is he real? Does he feel the same way or am I just so lonely? Or worse... Am I just imagining all of this?"

Eponine can relate to that. Sometimes, she wonders if Marius ever thinks about her like she thinks of him. Is she just unconsciously pretending to be in love with him? How does she even know she's in love with him? And Antoine... That kiss meant so much more than it should have. She should know, that kiss was not her first but it was special. All these confused feelings; is this even normal or is she just new at all of this? "I'm sure you'll be fine. You're not alone anymore. You've got me and 'Chetta now."

Cosette beams brightly. She puts her hand on top of Eponine's to express her gratitude. "Thank you, Eponine."

Grinning back as happily as she can, Eponine can still see her childhood friend as clear as day in Cosette. Some things never change, she guesses. But maybe that is a good thing in certain situations.

Then, Cosette leans close, ready to tell her friend her deepest secret. For so long, she has been itching to tell someone about it but now she has 'Chetta and Eponine to tell. Surreptitiously, she whispers, "You know... He was about to kiss me but then the clock struck midnight."

Eponine sits flabbergasted but forces a smile. Suddenly, all the pieces to the puzzle fall into place. The girl whom Marius danced with... Why did she not recognize her at all? It was the same blonde hair, pale face, pretty features and gentleness. That girl grew up with her, left at her family's inn at a young age. That girl whom Marius was so tenderly and lovingly gazing at was no other than Cosette.

* * *

"He's waking up! Someone go get the doctor!" Courfeyrac stands up then hovers over the boy. Jehan leaves to go fetch the doctor as the other boys crowd over the kid, eager to see him.

Gavroche's head is aching immensely and every inch of him feels sore, like he's been dragged on pavement under the sun. Blinking his eyes open, he is immediately greeted by the faces of Les Amis. They gather around him like little children watching an injured bird on the ground, muttering unintelligibly to themselves and curiously looking at the bruises on his young face. Gavroche can already hear the unspoken phrase in his mind, _is it really alive? Should we poke it with a stick or something?_ True, it is frightening and startling to wake up to such a sight but he is alive so they must have not tried to kill him... or let him die. Flinching at the twisted face of Montparnasse, Gavroche tries to test his arms but does not acknowledge their unnerving presence. A sharp cry escapes his lips when he moves the wrong way.

A nervous-looking man makes him lie back down. "You have to rest. The doctor should be here in a few moments. You're have bruises on most parts of your body so try not to move a lot. A few broken ribs but you'll be fine after a while. And... a bullet hole in your shoulder." He waits for an explanation but Gavroche does not provide him with one yet does not presses about it. Gavroche glances at the book his holding, a book for med students the boy guesses judging by the colorless pictures of the human anatomy on the pages. When he closes it, the words: _Property of Joseph Joly _is clearly on the cover.

Gavroche never attended school or had any official education but Eponine was kind enough to teach him how to read and write when she had free time. At first Gavroche groaned and said he had no use for this but Eponine was insistent. _Reading and writing is important! You'll thank me one day! _When Eponine became busier and busier, Cosette secretly took over as his teacher for some time. He found out that he was not Eponine's first student. As a little girl, Eponine taught Cosette how to read and write too, bragging about it actually. Sadly, both Cosette and Gavroche only knew the basics but it was enough for them to figure some things out and learn together.

"Courfeyrac brought you to us then we brought you here. You're one lucky little boy." one of them says calmly. This man has glasses, dark hair and a relaxing aura around him. The kind of guy you would expect to sit at home and read on Friday nights instead of partying.

"I'm not a little boy." Gavroche simply says though he is sure his anxiety and panic makes his voice hard. His mouth taste funny and not the good kind of funny but the kind that taste disgusting. He processes that he is in a hospital bed, a pretty comfortable bed with fluffy pillows. Maybe there is a glass of water around here.

The tension in the air disperses when they finally conclude that the boy is at least well enough to sass Charles Combeferre. Excitement fills the air as they hospitably welcome their new buddy. Gavroche just sits there, still overwhelmed by the whole thing.

A man with curly black hair chuckles heartily at the foot of the bed. "I already like him. That's a good sign." The curly haired man grins widely and introduces himself. "I'm Gerard Grantaire. Maybe you should just call me Grantaire." Gavroche can tell Grantaire is a drunkard from his eyes. There is wistful sadness in those dark eyes that Gavroche is all too familiar with, seeing the men his papa hangs around with. "Well... It's a good sign to everyone except Prince Enjy."

Prince Enjy scowls at Grantaire. Obviously, Prince Enjy is not his real name but it oddly suits his aristocratic handsome face and his classy demeanor. He has curly, blond hair and silver eyes that seem steely yet welcoming at the same time. Strange. Unfortunately, that scowl ruins the pretty picture. "I am Antoine Enjolras, pleasure to meet you. Do not mind this guy and please do not call me Prince Enjy. Enjolras would be fine."

"Are we going to let him call us all by our last names?" the glasses guy asks innocently. He looks over to Gavroche and grins. "But I guess that is really up to you. Call him whatever you want. Everyone constantly comes up with all kinds of nicknames for Antoine so I guess... Feel free to contribute."

Enjolras shoots a glare in the guy with glasses' way. "No, Charles Combeferre. Just no. No more nicknames. I think we just let him call us by our last names."

"I disagree," Joseph Joly says. "We should make him feel comfortable around us and last names are too formal. It will help him feel more relaxed especially during the next few weeks. What do you think, Courf?"

Courfeyrac, who is closes to Gavroche, smiles softly. "I don't want him calling me Bernard so... He can call me Courfeyrac or Courf." A playful smirk forms his lips and he is suddenly active. "But the no nickname rule sucks and the only one who has problems with it is Prince Enjy. I say let the kid do as he wants! Let us vote on it or we shall be revolt against the Prince!"

"That's not fair! We are not even complete! Feuilly, Bossuet, Bahorel, Marius and Prouvaire are not even here!" Enjolras protests by himself.

Grantaire pumps his fist in the air and yells, "Let him do what he wants, you cannot stop him! He has human rights, after all!" The other boys, excluding Antoine Enjolras, pump their fists in the air too in agreement. They begin to chant, "Let him do what he wants, you cannot stop him!" over and over until Antoine Enjolras gives in. When Antoine thought he wanted Gerard to participate more actively in their protests... this was not what he had in mind, "Fine! Go ahead and use my own words against me!" Gavroche watches in amusement, wondering what it would be like to hang around this joyful group everyday.

"The Prince is outnumbered! The people have won!" Courfeyrac cheers, all the stress from the past days are gone. "Never thought your own group would rebel against you, Prince Enjy?"

The light atmosphere and the excitement is extremely contagious so Gavroche is not surprised to see a grin on Antoine's serious face. "Why are all of your jokes about me? The Amis is supposed to be about helping the less fortunate and ridding injustice in society." Gerard Grantaire answers, "because it's fun grilling you and you make it so easy. But if the Prince insists..." He turns to Gavroche, who is watching the scene with wide eyes and a grin, and declares, "you are now a knight, good sir! A knight who shall serve the Prince and join us in our crusade for a brighter world!"

Gavroche lifts his chin higher at his new title. "Thank you, commoner. Now go get me a glass of water!" Bowing is head, Grantaire does so as Joseph remarks, "see? It's not as fun. He's enjoying it."

Antoine crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Well, if I play along, you'll eventually get tired of it. So, he can't be a knight until I say so. I still have power over you, peasants."

They burst into laughter at their Prince's uncharacteristic comment then bow lowly and humbly. This time, Gavroche and Antoine join in the laughter until the pain hits the kid again.

"By the way..." Courfeyrac grins at Gavroche. "We never got your name."

Gavroche likes this feeling of having someone other than poor Eponine care about him. He imagines this is what it's like having older brothers to goof off with and protect him. Maybe a good thing did come from Montparnasse and his gang almost beat the living shit out of him. These group of guys are new and strange yet it is welcoming and warm at the same time. A new beginning. A new adventure. A family he can have.

"Gavroche." His smile lights up his whole face. "I'm Gavroche."

Courfeyrac ruffles Gavroche's hair playfully. "Well, Gavroche, you are now under the protection of the Amis! At least until you heal or we contact your parents."

Shaking his head, Gavroche says as nonchalantly as he can, "I left. I ran away from home and I'm not coming back."

That takes them all back and makes them silent again. The kid has no where to go... They can't just leave them alone in the streets to fend for himself, especially when he is healing. An orphanage, perhaps? But Gavroche would be in the system and something tells them he would not like that. He would probably run off. The Amis glance at Antoine with concern, all joking aside.

"We'll figure something out soon..." Antoine nods. "But we will stay with you, Gavroche."

* * *

**klsdjksjf;sdlfjds;kljfds;klgj. I... am a very impulsive creature with an usual sense of humor... a bad combination. That uncharacteristic comment is a mistake I shall not regret... until I see reviews about it. Hold up, did I just compare a drunkard with a sunflower? *groans* Sorry in advance. A part of me wants to bang my head on the wall but the other part of me is oddly proud of my weirdness.**

**Was it better despite the quirks? **

**Reviews would be lovely. :3**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Characters not mine... Aww. :(**

****I EDITED CHAPTER 8 and I mean practically changed the WHOLE thing... Sorry for the inconvenience.****

* * *

**I mean it. I edited the whole chapter 8. I apologize for the mess I've created.**

* * *

**Here's when things get all mushy:**

**To those people who review, follow and even just silently read, thank you for everything! Thank you for all your support and even just glancing at this story. It means so much to me and it makes my day. Is it too early to say I love you all? Why all the love, you ask? I never thought I'd reach to 10 chapters. I always thought I'd give up on this story and just mentally finish it. But thanks to you guys... Thank you. :)**

**Okay. All of that done. Mushiness done... sort of. **

**Well... It's not done because we're starting off with Marius Pontmercy! Hopefully, you'll at least tolerate my Marius. **

* * *

Chapter 10 (10, imagine that!)

Love can heal us and it can hurt us. It is a double-edged sword that must be treated with caution and care. Where there is love, sacrifice will follow. No matter what kind of love it is. It is not the sweet words or tender kisses which solely make love true. In most great stories, it is the pain one goes through which sheds light to a dark path.

* * *

"It's a great day today. Class was not interesting. Nothing really remarkable or memorable but maybe that's because I was dozing off in the middle of lectures. I mean, I still want to be a lawyer but my seat felt comfortable. Then after, I went to the hospital- no, everyone is okay!" He quickly adds then explains the situation carefully. "The Amis is watching this little kid, Gavroche, who was beaten up. He's a tough one and he's healing, poor guy. I think he is twelve or eleven but he is so tiny... don't ever call him tiny or he'll hit you. He's already hit Benjamin Bahorel- I told you about him before- and Grantaire high fived him." Marius recalls that incident, the first time Gavroche met everyone officially. Benjamin called him tiny and cute; Gavroche didn't like that at all so he smacked Benjamin on the arm. Not that Benjamin was offended or hurt. In fact, he was grinning proudly and already took a liking to the kid. Unfortunately, Gavroche's injuries are still sore but he's tough. It's a good sign he can still defend himself despite the pain... But that kind of makes Marius wonder how Gavroche grew up. Marius cringes at the possibilities.

"Courfeyrac always watches him. You know Courf, right? He's the guy who introduced me to the Amis. Yeah, great guy with a great sense of humor. Enjolras has been acting kind of funny though... A few days ago, he's always in his head but now... He's just odd. Sometimes, I see him with this funny expression as if he's trying to remember something and other times he's all happy... which is strange too. I guess Gavroche has that effect on people. He doesn't talk about how he got his injuries or his family though..." Marius takes a moment to collect his thoughts and balls up his shaking hands.

Marius Pontmercy sits Indian style on the green grass as he rambles on about how his day went and random facts about the little boy Gavroche. The air is cool and the wind blows his hair back, he rather likes the feeling. Somewhere in the nearby trees, the birds sing their melodic song to themselves. What a beautiful day... It would be more beautiful is his mystery girl were there beside him. The hallow feeling is in his chest and a weight sits on his shoulders. Marius thinks that maybe he should distract himself before the grief, which he has been vigilantly avoiding, consumes him.

"Dad, did I ever tell you about this girl I met in a party?" Marius leans his back against warm stone and he stares on the flowers next to him. "I was at this party... Enjolras' party which he absolutely hated. Then I saw this girl. She was beautiful, with long shiny blonde hair and a gorgeous face. Her eyes were so blue and her dress suited her perfectly. Then she was staring at me. It was like a dream. I felt so lost but... I found her and she found me. I asked her to dance with me and she said yes! Yes, she agreed!" Marius' voice mixes with delighted laughter.

"The angel was so graceful unlike me; I stepped on her foot, you see. Many, many times." He blushes at that memory wherein he kept muttering apologies ad he nervously sweated. The dark haired boy absently brushes his fingers on the flower's pink petals. Pink, just like his angel's lips. _I wonder if they're just as soft._ "We... we were about to kiss but she had to leave. It was like Cinderella... Ever since then, I can't get her out of my head. I'm looking for her. Don't worry, I'll find her." He says the sentence before he can stop himself. "Then maybe I can bring here here to meet you, dad. You'll love her! You two will get along... I know you will..." His voice trails off, leaving an empty feeling in his gut.

Marius stops talking for a while and inhales deeply. Closing his eyes, he stops the tears from rolling down his freckled cheeks. He can practically hear his composure crack and chip away. _Be brave. He wants you to be brave and happy. Don't cry now, not right here._ His voice comes out like a sob. "I wish I met you, dad. I..." He cannot do anything to stop the tears now. They fall one after the other down to his cheeks, jaw and then to his shirt. "I am so sorry I was late and... And you were already _g-gone_." His voice cracks yet he continues. "I-I didn't get to say goodbye. I never met you but... I'd do anything, _anything_, to make it up to you."

More relaxed now, he smiles through his tears. "I'm fine, dad. I really am. I just wonder if you're with mom right now. Tell her I love her and I love you too... I love you both." He glances at the tombstone next to his fathers as the tears threaten to fall again. She died when Marius was only a little boy. But they, his parents, are happy now in the kingdom of the Lord. They are together and that's what matters. Kinda romantic too, now Marius thinks about it.

The freckled boy stands up shakily and faces his father's tombstone, wiping his tears with his sleeve. "I'm sorry, dad," he says softly so only his father can hear his words then turns away.

* * *

"Eponine?" It is soft and shy in the crowd of booming sounds. The other sounds should have drowned it out but Eponine hears it clearly.

Eponine turns around, she knows that voice! Her stomach churns and her fingers shake. Now, her knees start buckling. It has been so long since she heard that voice but she has not forgotten that deep voice.

Immediately, she feels awful about her reaction to the the mere sound of Marius' voice. Cosette is her friend again after so many years! Whenever she see's Cosette's face, she sees unwavering faith and hope. The blonde girl believes in her; she does not look at her cautiously or treat her like a delinquent. It is both moving and frightening. Deep inside Eponine, she is afraid that she may accidentally or deliberately betray her friend or bring harm to her in any way.

Cosette likes Marius and he seems to return her feelings. Eponine does not fit anywhere in that equation.

She was on her way to the Musain Cafe to visit Musichetta who promised to ask around about her missing sibling. Upon hearing the state of her Gavrcohe, Musichetta quickly pitched in to help. _Oh, poor Gavroche. He's a tough kid, Ep. I'm positive he is holding up._ Merely a few blocks from her destination, the familiar voice spoke her name.

"Marius!" She exclaims when she. How glad is she that Marius recognizes her! Marius looks strapping in his casual clothes with his hair sticking up in the front. His freckles splatter on his face and adds to his timid charm. With his hands in his pockets, he stands a few feet away from her. There are no traces of any sadness, grief or pain in that happy face of his.

The freckled man steps closer to her. "Hello, Eponine. How have you been since the party?" Remembering how she seemed to be in a hurry, expertly maneuvering through the busy crowd. "I-I don't mean to pry but where are you going? You looked a bit anxious."

It warms Eponine's heart that he asks her how she has been doing. As for her feelings towards him, things are confusing at this point. Eponine is torn between her "love" for Marius and her friendship with Cosette. This time, she knows that she has to be a better person. It may hurt her for a while but the happiness of both Cosette and Marius would be worth it. Yes, she just has to repeat that to herself so she can cope. She cannot love him but she can admire him from a distance, right?

"I'm great." _I feel great now that you are here. _"I was just on my way to the Musain... My friend own the place."

Marius' head tilts to the side which Eponine thinks is actually very adorable. He says enthusiastically, "Oh, you're friends with 'Chetta! She is very nice and she would often serve us free drinks."

Eponine makes a mental note to interrogate Musichetta about Marius when she sees the woman later on... For Cosette, of course! "How do you know 'Chetta?"

There is a light in his eyes as he proudly talks about his group of friends. "Some friends and I go there regularly. 'Chetta welcomes us every time we go there. She's rather fond of us... Or maybe it is because a friend of ours, Joseph Joly, is her boyfriend." He ends it with a shrug. "In fact, I have nothing else to do. Might I accompany you to the Cafe?"

Despite his piling work and upcoming tests, Marius still has time to kill before going back home. Every student, even just once in his school life, has felt his arms refuse to open a thick dull textbook and his wondering brain drift up into the air. After all, there is always tomorrow or the day after that or the last minute. In other simpler words, Marius is just procrastinating on work.

"Sure," Eponine smiles, a bit dazed before she chides herself. If she is going to have feelings for Marius, she has to hide them very well.

Later on, they sit in the Cafe which is currently packed with customer lining up for coffee and occupying the other seats. When Musichetta saw them come in, she waves at them for a second before going back to work. Eponine concludes that they are still short on employees and need as much help as they can get.

Eponine quickly snatches an empty table before someone else does. Marius stands next to her when she sits down and asks, "you want anything?" Shaking her head, she declines his offer.

As Marius waits in line for a cup of coffee, Eponine's mind wonders. Normally, she thinks of Marius but that seems inappropriate now so she tries to think of something else. Antoine Enjolras pops in her mind. Why did the thought of him suddenly appeared? Eponine barely knows the guy! All she knows for sure is that he is going to go after her for the ring then have her arrested for theft. That night, the man with golden locks did not seem to care about his wallet- which he never got back- but his eyes got intense about the ring. Feeling the ring against her skin, she wonders how much this thing is really worth. Maybe she can use it to find Gavroche and to get her necklace back.

Marius sits in front of her, putting his warm cup down on the table. "Eponine?"

"Yeah?" Unconsciously, her back straightens and her eyes become wider.

Fiddling with his fingers, Marius' eyes are trained on his cup. "Can... Can I ask you something? It is a bit weird and crazy but it is worth a try." Their eyes meet. Eponine can hear her heart pound in her chest at the sight of those beautiful eyes. "You see, I met this girl in the party."

A small part of Eponine cracks at that and she is sure of what he is trying to ask of her. This confirms her theory that Cosette and Marius do love each other for love will bring them together. What a cruel trick of fate that Marius is asking Eponine for information about Cosette! Eponine will have to reunite the two then her heart will shatter when she sees them together.

Putting up a fake smile, Eponine does her best to act interested and glad for Marius and even go as far as asking questions about this mysterious girl. In the most love-sick voice Eponine has ever heard, the freckled man pours his heart out about his love for dear Cosette. Every single time Marius has talked of his angel, the Amis teased and laughed at him especially Grantaire and Courfeyrac. Antoine would give him a _I-am-judging-you-and-your-lonely-soul _look and roll his eyes before returning to his law books. Even the Jehan has had enough of the besotted Marius and his incessant chattering regarding the blonde beauty who has captured Marius' soul. To Marius, it means a lot that someone now appreciates his love and is willingly listening to him and his feelings.

After almost a quarter of an hour, Marius feels as light as a feather now that he has someone to talk about the love of his life to. "Eponine, have you seen my precious angel? Have you any idea who she is and where she may be?"

At this point, Eponine is ready to curl up and cry. _He loves her and not me. His face and his voice says it all! What an idiot I am to have even a bit of hope..._ Nodding, Eponine grins but the joy does not reach to her brown eyes. There is hurt and despair in her voice which Marius is innocently oblivious to. "Yes, I know her. She is my friend."

In a second, Marius bursts with gladness and jubilation, almost standing up from his seat and knocking down his half empty cup of coffee. _My prayers have been answered! My beloved is found! She is so close! _There are no words to describe how incredible Marius feels at the moment or how excruciating it is for Eponine to see him so in love.

Quickly, Marius takes Eponine's hand in his and implores, "you must take me to see her." Eponine can practically hear her heart breaking slowly, like the sound of glass shattering into fragile pieces. "Please, Eponine? I have to see my angel! My life would not be complete without her!"

How can she say no to that hopeful face? How can she deny them both of their happiness just because she is unhappy? If she turns away from him, would he ever forgive her? He would probably hate her and look at her with disdain and she cannot stand the thought of him not smiling at her, even if it were just a friendly smile. "I-I will... I'll make sure that you meet her." She chokes out the words yet he remains absorbed in his feelings.

"Oh, thank you!" Marius cheers, not bothering to restrain himself any longer. "You are a wonderful friend, Eponine! Tell me, what is my beloved's name? I just know it is something beautiful!" If Eponine were not feeling so dejected, she would have been glad to be called a friend by Marius after just a short time.

"Cosette," Eponine inhales deeply. "Her name is Cosette."

"Cosette..." He tries out the sound of her name in his mouth. "What a lovely name! It fits her so much! A beautiful name for a beautifully angelic creature!" Despite everything, this statement makes Eponine feel a tad insecure of her name.

"Tell my beloved that I shall meet her tomorrow night!" Marius gives her directions to park near the Musain, a few blocks down. He picked a romantic place, he wants everything to be perfect when they are reunited!

* * *

"And this... protest took place a few days ago? I entrusted you to take care of the situation." The inspector sits on his chair stiffly. A stack of papers is neatly piled on his wooden desk as he skims through some of them.

The younger police officer nods. "I believe student activists were responsible, sir."

The inspector's voice is clipped. "How many were injured?"

"Thankfully, not even a handful. I can assure you, we did the best we could do."

The officer bites his lip when he sees the inspector considers him with a questioning look. "But this is not the first attempt of this group of activists, is it not? There have been previous records before. Some of them show how incompetent you have been in handling these activists."

"Sir, I can explain-"

The older man cuts him off. "And Patron-Minette is still on the lose, correct? This notorious gang is still out there, committing crimes and unlawful deeds! Have you come close to finding them and bringing them to justice?"

Clearing his throat, the officer is suddenly interested at his feet. "It is difficult when we barely have any information about Patron-Minette."

"If I am correct, your men chased them not so long ago. They escaped, yes?" It is not a question that is meant to be answered but it is an accusation to the younger officer. The inspector is questioning his adequacy and suitability for the job.

Hanging his head, the officer replies shamefully, "yes, sir."

That settles it and makes up the inspector's mind. "You are relived of your duties. I have been assigned to take your place."

The officer's eyes widen and he looks up to meet the inspector's hard gaze. "Sir?"

"You heard me. I do not like repeating myself."

"I am..." He drifts off, still flabbergasted.

"And I'm Javert! I shall bring back discipline to this city!"

* * *

Cosette squeals with delight, jumping up and down in the Thenardier household. It is fortunate that Monsieur Thenardier, Madame Thenardier and Azelma are currently out doing business. Having returned from a chat with Monsieur Fauchelevent, Cosette found Eponine already back home so early. The brunette seemed distress over something but she refused to talk about it but it still worried Cosette. Changing the subject, Eponine informs Cosette about Marius, the boy from the party. Learning that he wants to meet her tomorrow night, Cosette agrees without a moment of hesitation or a second thought.

"What should I wear? I don't have much clothes but I need to look presentable!" Cosette starts fussing about the tiniest details to make the evening flawless. Nothing should go wrong.

"You will look fine. He called you beautiful." Eponine tries to calm the blonde down unsuccessfully, a bit of jealously mixing with her voice.

Cosette's face turns scarlet at the compliment and humbly insists that she does not look beautiful. She stops for a while and looks at Eponine with tears in her eyes. Once again, Eponine does not know how to react or what to do when Cosette starts crying. Should she comfort her and tell her everything will be okay? But she does not even know why Cosette is crying! With tears now rolling down her eyes, Cosette wraps her arms around Eponine which stuns the brunette.

"Eponine, thank you so much for doing this. My life isn't exactly the happiest but this meeting is a big thing for me. It's going to be like a fairy tale moment so thank you for helping me and making this possible." Her arms tighten around Eponine. The latter returns her embrace fondly. The emotions are too much to handle; the pain from unrequited love and the joy from seeing both Cosette and Marius happy are a bit overwhelming for one day. Not to mention the never-ending lists of problems in her life.

"You're welcome," Eponine smiles.

"You're the best friend I've ever had."

* * *

**Enjolras may not care about Marius' lonely soul but Eponine does. **

**Question is... who cares about Eponine's lonely soul?**

**I wanted to put the "And I'm Javert!" somewhere... lol. I can't help it, okay? The temptation was far too great! **

**And once again, I am sorry for the mess in the other chapter. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or Les Miserables.**

**It's been a while since I updated but here I am! I have been busy with other stuff. **

**Reviews and follows are appreciated as always! Thank you!**

* * *

Chapter 11

Questions are all relevant, no matter how painfully obvious the answers may be. To call a question idiotic is to underestimate the one who asks. One does not just tests one's knowledge, but more importantly one sees into the mind of another.

* * *

The doctor in a white coat shakes his head while wearing a grim face, which makes him seem older. Explaining the current situation, he uses some hand gestures and technical terms. Jean Valjean stares at the carpeted ground and at his own shiny black shoes with dismay. A part of him is listening to the doctor while the other part is deaf from the grave news.

"Her condition is not going to get better, Monsieur Fauchelevent." The doctor concludes. Seeing grief written all over Valjean's face, he lowers his voice and says more apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Valjean, who is more known as Fauchelevent, presses his lips into a tight line then inclines his head to look at the doctor's face. "Does she know about her… condition?"

"Most likely she was aware of the sickness spreading but not how fast it would take before... Surely, she must have known it would come to this after so long."

"Doctor," Valjean swallows nervously. "How long before… I mean…" In his perturbed state, he is unable to complete his sentence or question.

The doctor feels deeply sorry for Monsieur Fauchelevent and his close friend. Monsieur Fauchelevent is a private man with scarcely anyone to call a friend or companion and it is devastating to helplessly watch his close friend in the hospital. There are times when words fail to convey emotions. The doctor gives a small shake of his head, which is enough of a reply for Jean Valjean.

"Monsieur Fauchelevent," A nurse clad in white interrupts the morbid conversation with an urgent tone. "She's awake and wishes to see you as soon as possible."

The old man glances at the doctor for one last time before following the nurse to Fantine's hospital room at the end of the hallway. He takes long strides hastily but slows down when he reaches the door, which is ajar. Knocking on the wooden door, he pokes his head to see Fantine lying on the bed.

Her voice is weak and barely above a cracked whisper, "is that you, Monsieur?"

Cringing at her sickly tone, Valjean approaches her until he is hovering over her. "Yes, it is I, Fantine. How are you feeling?"

Fantine blinks rapidly to clear her mind from its hazy fog and struggles to keep her focus on Valjean's face. Sweat sticks her hair to her sickly pale skin. She does not even have enough energy to attempt to sit up from the comfortable hospital bed. It is like watching a delicate flower wilt before one's eyes.

She does not want to appear that weak and worry her friend so she nods and forces a smile. "I'm fine."

Despite her smile, he sees through her pretenses of strength. Sighing, he sits on the edge of her bed, careful not to move her. "Fantine," he takes her hand gingerly but avoids her brown doe eyes. "The doctor and I had a discussion about your health... I-I don't know how-"

"It's alright," Fantine squeezes his hand reassuringly. She lets out a hard throaty cough. "Nothing can be done anymore, Monsieur. It's almost over for me, and I have accepted that fact a while back."

Valjean shakes his head while his hands tremble slightly. "I-I should have-"

"You have done enough for me during these past years, Monsieur. I thank you." The sick woman smiles genuinely as if she were not dying or in pain. Valjean could swear he saw a tiny glimpse of a healthy Fantine when her smile shines through her sickness.

"Cosette-"

Fantine gains energy from the sound of her daughter's name. Her eyes widen with excitement. She pleads, "please bring her to me. I must see her one last time before I go. It is my last request."

It is Valjean's greatest regret that he has to bring Cosette to meet her dying mother in her death-bed. He was hoping Fantine would be completely healthy before he reunites them. Under the circumstances, he now has to explain the situation to Cosette. It would be like taking someone to a peaceful walk to the park only to lock them up in a dark room of grief the next day. He would give Cosette a moment's joy before she mourns for her loss. Must Valjean give false hope of a family to an orphan girl? Would that be too cruel? Especially to someone he considers a friend?

Nonetheless, he nods at Fantine's last wish. "I shall see it done, Fantine."

She completely relaxes in bed, and she closes her tired brown eyes. "Maybe I might get better if I see her. I have always believed that love can heal wounds. My Cosette shall finally meet me after so long! I hope she recognizes me... even just a bit. It is funny that she will see my like this. I have long for this for years... I can finally rest soon."

Fantine drifts into a peaceful sleep with the sound of her breathing filling the room.

* * *

Antoine Enjolras is on his way to the hospital when he stops at the middle of his walk to hand an elder woman a few coins from his pocket. The old woman pulls her tattered coat around her tighter and gives him a grateful but toothless smile. That is the fifth or seventh beggar he has passed by today. Most of them were children. Children! Children should be in school, preparing for their future and the future of this country! Antoine makes it a habit to pass by roads and streets where there are more beggars so he can be reminded by his cause all the time and maybe help someone out. Seeing his countrymen suffer is throwing wood into a blazing fire which fuels his drive to fight for justice.

A woman curls up against the graffiti-covered wall, hugging herself. Her faded jeans and dark sneakers are dirtied and have holes. Antoine notices a bit of dried blood on her black shirt and bruises on her skinny arms. Her brown hair covers most of her face but Antoine can still see patches of bruises. Coughing as quietly as she can, she moves to press a red stained cloth to her nose.

Antoine, who cannot deny a soul in pain, approaches her and kneels before her. "Mademoiselle, are you in much pain? Do you need assistance? May I help you in any way?"

She looks up to see this weird stranger who offers to help her. Not many people gave her or any poor person a second glance. Their eyes become huge when they recognize each other.

"It's _you__!" _Eponine exclaims. "Antoine Enjolras!"

Without waiting to hear his violent reaction, she moves a quickly as her aching body allows her to. Now on her feet, she stumbles away from him while holding the cloth to her nose. It is a good attempt to escape but she is soon leaning against the wall for support again. Antoine carefully comes to her again without any haste, he knows she cannot run off in that condition.

"Eponine, wasn't it?" He holds out a clean unused handkerchief to her. They are not on good terms with each other but she is still in need of his help. For a second, she glances at his lips. She kissed those lips nights ago.

She spits at the ground near his feet and stubbornly shakes her head. Her voice is venomous and bitter, "I do not need your help, Monsieur. I can take care of myself. You can just try to get me arrested, but I will not go quietly or willingly."

Now is not the time to talk about the ring. She is hurt, for God's sake! "I won't get you arrested if you let me help you."

She is flabbergasted at his statement. "What about your ring? Don't you think lowlife thieves like me should be thrown in prison? Why the hell do you even want to help me?"

Sighing under his breath, he stuffs his handkerchief in his pocket. "I will get my ring back... But you're injured. I can't just turn my back on people who need my help. I do not think you stole my ring for any selfish reason. I do know that there are people who commit crimes to survive and feed their families. So tell me, what happened to you?"

"It's none of your business. Just leave me alone." Slowly and gently, she sits herself on the ground and resumes her position of being against the wall. This is pathetic! He pities me! He probably thinks I'm using his pity to get money or that I deserve this. Probably he is just pretending to be nice so I'll give his stupid ring. Eponine stares at the bruises on her arms sadly.

Soon Antoine is on the ground next to her, making his red jacket and black jeans dirty. Seated Indian-style, he keeps a respectable distance between them.

"Just leave me alone! Damn it!" Eponine snaps.

"Not until you let me help you. I swore I would never, _ever_ ignore someone I can help, and I will honor that promise diligently." Antoine says stubbornly.

_If I ignore him, he'll leave soon enough._ They sit in silence on the ground. Neither says anything as they watch the passers-by going on with their daily routine. Various kinds of people bustle about the streets, heading towards their next destination. None of the people glance at the suspicious pair who were just watching the world turn.

"My papa did this," Eponine mumbled, her eyes watching a man smiling as he tugs on his laughing daughter's hand. Eponine's papa doesn't smile nor does he laugh, he sneers and scowls. A part of Eponine thinks he is incapable of any happy and pure sign of affection.

Antoine turns his head towards her, "pardon me. Did you say something?"

Clearing her throat, Eponine loops her arms around her knees and props her chin on top of her knees. "My papa used to smile like that when I was just a kid." Antoine follows her gaze and frowns at what she is trying to say. "What happened? What... changed?"

"He became hungry for money, more than usual. Nothing else seemed to matter to him. Not my mother. Not my siblings. Not me. Often, he would use us in this his sneaky schemes like the other night. When we would even think of disobeying... he would never allow it." _Why was she talking about this to some stranger whom she was trying to run away from earlier? _There is something sincere about Antoine. Like she knows he would not judge her unjustly like most people would.

Antoine knows this is a very sensitive topic to thread on. He had no expected her to actually talk about her problem but he appreciates that she seems to trust him with this. Well, he did say he would help her. "He hurt you?" Eponine nods silently. Her eyes say that it has happened more than once. Who knows what kind of horrors those brown eyes have seen? How many insults and curses have her ears heard? Did Eponine scream or did she just suck it up bravely? How badly was she really hurt? Immediately, Antoine feels disgust and disdain towards Eponine's papa. What kind of father does that to his own flesh and blood?

"What about your dad?" Eponine changes the topic.

Antoine, who was so engrossed in his thoughts, is caught off guard by the question. "My father... He and I don't see eye-to-eye especially about my future. Once he makes up his mind, he is won't stray from that path... We often argue and it drives my mother crazy. But... he's not a bad guy or anything."

Eponine smirks at this but he can't see since she is still holding the cloth to her bleeding nose, "he sounds a lot like you." Antoine wrinkles his nose, "I am not stubborn."

Raising an eyebrow, Eponine says, "you're here sitting on the dirt covered ground with me because you refuse to leave until I let you help me. I'm pretty sure you have other things to do but... you're here."

"Just accept my help." He gives her his white handkerchief, and this time she accepts his offer. Discarding the old cloth, she replaces it with the spotless white one. Eponine mutters, "thanks."

Antoine nods. "You're welcome."

"And thanks for not getting me arrested. I can't get arrested right now..." She meets his eyes before she stares at her shoes. "I need to look for my brother. He ran away weeks ago and I haven't seen him since."

Antoine does not know what to say to that. He does not have any siblings. Instead, he nods uncertainly. "I'll get you some ice for your bruises, okay? Don't go away or run off again. I promise I'll come back."

Eponine puts down the cloth for a while. She smiles weakly at him. "Sure."

He gets up and leaves her for a few minutes to get ice. When returns, she is gone.

* * *

"That is not fair!" Feuilly exclaims as the other guys groan at exactly the same time.

Jehan runs his hands through his hair and sighs. "Injustice! Impossible!"

"Ugh," Bahorel throws the cards in his arms in the air exasperatedly. It begins to rain cards as most of the other guys follows suit.

"I'm not cleaning this up." Antoine says from the table behind their circle, a thick law book open before him. Rolling his eyes, he flicks a king of hearts card that has landed on his book.

An ace caught in his messy tangle of curls, Grantaire looks over to the boy in the bed suspiciously. "That is the fifth game you've won. It's not normal, 'roche. How are you cheating?"

Gavroche shrugs innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about. I won fair and square. Guess I'm just really lucky."

Next to the young boy, Courfeyrac laughs heartily then turns to the person next to him, Combeferre. "Do you see that? He won the game! I win the bet, Charlie! Now hand me the money."

Looking unimpressed by Courfeyrac, Combeferre arches an eyebrow and pushes his glasses back. "First of all, don't call me Charlie, _Bernard._ Second of all, our bet is that Gavroche would win against _all_ of us. As you can see..." He gestures to Antoine who is reading a law book. "Our dear Prince did not participate in the game so technically we are incomplete."

Courfeyrac pouts at the loopholes. "Damn you and your stupid logic."

Joly examines his hands and panics to Bossuet, "do you not see it? It's a cut! I've got a cut from the cards! A card-cut! I think it's bleeding!" The latter smiles patiently and shakes his head, "it's not bleeding, mon ami. Just breathe for a moment." The hypochondriac protests, "I should get it disinfected just in case. We are in a hospital after all." Grantaire snorts, "yeah, maybe they'd give you a Hello Kitty band-aid too."

For the first time, they notice how silent Marius has been. Since he came in with this goofy smile, he has not said more than three words to anyone just a giddy smile and a hello. Now the freckled man stares at the cards on the floor as his mind races off into another world. "Marius, are you all right? Did you catch something?" Joly asks nervously. Grantaire chuckles and whispers loudly to Feuilly, "he looks like he could use a drink or two."

Nodding, Marius smiles as wide as he can. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just meeting someone tonight." Courfeyrac wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, "oh? Did Romeo find a hot chick? Does she have a sister?" The other blushes scarlet and shies away a bit, "I don't think she has a sister but... she's beautiful."

"Is this the same girl you have been drooling over for weeks? You've finally met her?" Jehan pipes while the others groan and brace themselves for a long detailed story about how Marius was able to find the love of his life. Gavroche pretends to be puking at the edge of his bed, and Bahorel makes a gun with his hands and shoots himself in the head.

Whether choosing to ignore their lack of enthusiasm or oblivious to their agony, Marius begins recalling his encounter with Eponine. "I haven't seen her since the party but... I bumped into someone I met at the party- the girl who found my lost watch- on my way to the Musain. I asked her about my beloved and she said she knows who my angel is! I couldn't believe it! She's friends with my beloved! I'm going to meet my beloved tonight at the park near the Musain and it will be perfect!"

Behind them, Antoine puts down his book. He cannot concentrate with this talk of nonsense. Of course, he cannot concentrate at all since Eponine left earlier. With his voice dripping with sarcasm, he says, "as much as we all really care about your love life, could you please refrain from gushing? I think my ears are starting to bleed."

Not offended by Antoine's snide comment , Marius just turns into a bright shade of red. "Sorry... I have to go anyway. I have to prepare for tonight." He stands up timidly and collects his belongings.

"So, what's the name of the fairest among them all?" Grantaire drawls.

"Oh, I found out from my friend... My beloved's name is Cosette. Have you ever heard of a more beautiful name?"

Gavroche sits up straighter at the name, causing a sudden pain in his ribs but he does not care. Suddenly, he inquires, "Your friend... what's her name? Do you know her name?"

By the door, Marius nods, "Eponine... Her name is Eponine." Then, he is gone.

Electricity shoots through Antoine. Can it be? Is it the same girl? Is this his chance to finally get his ring back? Most probably she would be with Cosette tonight. Was she still injured?

"That's my sister." a small voice whispers.

"Did you say something, Gav?" Courfeyrac asks.

Gavroche leans back to the bed. "That's my sister. Eponine is my sister. The last time I saw her... She must be looking for me."

Antoine stares disbelievingly at the boy on the bed. How did he miss the resemblance between them? Eponine's words ring in his ears, _I need to look for my brother. He ran away weeks ago and I haven't seen him since._ He can still see the sad look in those brown eyes and the bruises on her skin. "Gavroche... I know Eponine. I can help you."


End file.
